Things Change
by Phoenix Moon 13
Summary: Spike returns to Sunnydale after 16 long years. He's not surprised that things have changed and he wasn't planning on sticking around, but what's waiting for him isn't something he can just walk away from...
1. Chapter 1

_**Things Change**_  
**Chapter One**

Author's Note: This fic won the following in the Barefoot Awards in 2002:

**RUNNER-UP in the Tantrum Teens Award**

**WINNER in the Teens and Preteens section of the Daddy Award**

**WINNER in the Teens section of the Sitting In A Tree Award**

* * *

The black car was as battered as its occupant and almost as old. A bottle flew out of the window and crashed into the tree, shattering into a million pieces.

The man sighed deeply.

Out of alcohol. Damn.

The door swung open and the squeak of its hinges betrayed what it had been through, which was a lot over the years. One large black boot hit the grass of the cemetery and the man gripped the sides of the door to haul himself out. He glanced around and smiled weakly. It had been a long time since he had smiled and it now felt unnatural.

He wondered where she was, if she was anywhere near. He needed to do this, he'd decided a long time ago that there were things he couldn't change or make better, but this wasn't one of those things. This was something he could apologise for and maybe it wouldn't make it better, but at least he could say he'd tried.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't say anything about this in years to come; maybe he'd just be dust, another handful on the breeze, irritating childhood asthma.

But at least he could say he went out on the end of a Slayer's stake.

He swung around when he heard the sounds of a fight beyond the trees. He jumped over the bonnet of the car and stalked quietly to the trees. He just wanted a glimpse, that was all. He peered through the leaves and stared at the Slayer. She fought with the vibrant energy he remembered so well, a broad grin on her face as she rammed a stake into the vampire's chest then turned to meet the next one. Dark blonde hair flowed out behind her and the black boots she wore danced over the grass. When the vamp was dusted, she stopped and stretched her bare arms, sighing happily.

There was something different about her and when she turned, he realised just what was wrong.

Her hair was curly and dark blonde, her face pale and her green eyes large. She was pretty and very much like his Slayer, but she wasn't her. She was a Slayer, but she wasn't _his_ Slayer.

And that could only mean one thing.

His Slayer was dead.

The man turned away from the scene, so he didn't see her run in the direction of a scream. With a clenched jaw, he walked slowly back to the car. He slumped inside and revved the engine angrily. The man, who had only just come to some sort of peace with himself, roared out of the Sunnydale cemetery and along a route that was still familiar, even after all these years.

His Slayer was dead.

But there was still something he had to do.

And Spike, the Master Vampire, was going to do it; he wasn't going to run away.

* * *

She stretched her arms and sighed happily. She looked around for her brother, but he was no where to be seen. She wasn't worried, just irritated, but then again he usually did go off, she knew that, but she had never been a very patient person, never the type to sit around and wait for something to happen. She had to find him. She could go home now, though she should find Todd first, if only to stop her mother screaming the house down in her worry. It was probably better not to go home though; she'd have to do that essay if she did. Boring. And anyway, it wasn't due in for another week.

She sensed rather than saw someone and she turned and frowned at the trees. Then she heard the scream and without hesitation, ran towards it.

A female vampire clutched its victim and lowered it fangs to the boy's neck. The boy struggled as the young girl skidded to a halt in front of them.

"Slayer," the vampire hissed.

"Y'know," the girl sighed. "Everyone makes that mistake. I _am not_ the Slayer; think I should get it tattooed on my forehead? My _name_ is _Chrissy._"

Chrissy swung her leg in a wide arc, missing the victim's head by less than an inch. Her heavy boot hit the side of the vampire's head and knocked her sideways. The boy crawled away and Chrissy hauled him up.

"Run," she told him. "Don't stop, just run."

The boy nodded and scrambled away.

The vampire growled and leaped at Chrissy who met her with a hard punch to the face. The vampire landed on the ground, but didn't get a chance to move because a pair of black boots appeared either side of the vampire's head.

"Todd," Chrissy moaned seconds later, as they stared into the vampire dust and her brother sheathed his sword at his side. "What did you do that for?"

"I'm sorry," he answered. "Are we not killing vampires anymore?"

"But I was handling it," she almost whined.

"C'mon," he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the gates of the cemetery.

She sighed and yawned, suddenly tired after long hours out and about after dark. And she _still_ had Trig homework? God, school was evil.

Or maybe it was fate that was evil.

She loved this, the fighting, but sometimes she wondered if this was it.

What was going to happen to her? Was she going to die before she graduated?

She and her twin brother had long ago accepted that this was what they had to do and they would probably die young. She remembered her answer: "Least we'll die pretty."

And she remembered the look on her mother's face.

Her mother hated her children's destiny, almost as much as her mother's friend hated his son's destiny. But it wasn't something you could fight and that, according to her mother, was the worst kind of evil.

But if Chrissy had to fight, she would and she knew her brother felt the same. She glanced up at her taller twin and for the millionth time, envied his height.

She'd go home, do her homework, go to bed, wake up, go to school then patrol again tomorrow night.

Because, as she had accepted with a grin long ago, this was their destiny.

Because they were Todd and Christina Summers – two names often mentioned in prophecy.

* * *

She sighed and shifted in her seat, her chin still propped in her hands. She glanced back at the clock on the wall and frowned, they were usually back by now. They could usually be heard laughing as they strolled home, Todd bearing his sword and Chrissy waving her stake about as she spoke. She felt the presence and turned to face the man in her doorway.

"They'll be fine," Edward Thorpe said. "They always are."

"I know," she answered.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Edward," she answered quietly as he walked down the hall to his room.

She turned back to the window, but instead gazed down at her hand. It slowly glowed, then faded out and she smiled faintly. She had long ago learnt to control it. He would have been proud of her.

She heard the shrill laughter of a young girl and stood up abruptly. She leaned out of the open window and the young man glanced up and gave a small wave. She smiled and waved back even as she told herself she should have gone, it was her job, no matter what Edward said about their destiny. She had a duty to them and she felt she was failing in it.

If he had been there the day Edward Thorpe turned up and revealed the twins destiny, he would have thrown him out and told him never to return. She doubted he would have accepted Edward like she had.

When they were almost at the house, she stood up, grabbed her robe and went downstairs to greet them.

"Hey, Mom," Chrissy said and hugged her, just so she would know her daughter had survived.

"Hey," Todd said and shrugged off his jacket. "Where's Ed?"

"In bed, you were late," their mother folded her arms and pursed her lips.

"Only a little," Chrissy pouted. "Did Aunt Dawn call?"

"Yes."

"What'd she say?" Todd asked.

"She said was just boarding her flight, she'll be here tomorrow morning."

"How's Anya doing?" Chrissy called from the kitchen where she was making a large sandwich.

"Fine."

She watched proudly as her children grappled over one of the sandwiches.

She loved them sometimes more than she could bear and losing them was a shadow of fear that shrouded her. She had lost so much and all she had now were her children and the young Englishman currently lodging in her sister's old room. Finally, when her daughter yawned and her son ran his hand over his face, she herded them up to their room.

They hated sharing, but they knew their mother would hate to leave the house, so they kept their complaints to themselves. When she kissed them goodnight, they wriggled away from her and bowed their heads over half finished homework.

"Only half an hour," she warned them and they nodded.

"G'night, Mom," they said in unison and she smiled.

"Goodnight."

She left them and returned to the room that she had occupied since she was sixteen. She cast one more glance out of the window, before pulling it closed. She always closed it and when her children asked why, she told them she had once invited a vampire in.

She frowned at the tree across the street, but shrugged and turned away to remove her robe and climb into bed.

Buffy Summers never saw the bleached blonde vampire walk down the street and stop under the tree to look up into the dark window of her room.

* * *

The young brunette peered out of the window of the aeroplane and smiled.

She was going home.

Despite Sunnydale's monsters and the fact that it was the Hellmouth, it was still her home. She hoped Anya would be all right, she had said she would be fine, but she was unsure. For the past three years, she had lived in New York and a year ago Anya had turned up. They shared a flat and she had to admit she had become attached to the Vengeance demon.

The only thing she hated about going home was that it was so different; her sister was always so sad and quiet, her smiles always seeming forced.

Xander was the same as always, older, not very much wiser and still single, she doubted he would ever get married, not after Anya.

Willow was a computer science teacher, she still babbled like always, but there was something different. She was wiser than she had been, almost Giles-like. But more fun.

The brunette frowned and suppressed the tears that threatened to bubble out over her cheeks; when she remembered Willow, she remembered Tara and how she looked, just lying there in her room. She still missed Tara, they all did. The twins had never known Tara and she couldn't help pitying them for that. But the twins knew and loved Willow.

She smiled when she remembered the twins, she absolutely adored them. But even they held a sadness for her, because whenever she looked at them, she remembered why Buffy always seemed so sad and she remembered the person who was also not in Sunnydale.

The person no longer stalking the cemetery, or drinking and watching _Passions_ in his crypt.

And despite everything, Dawn Summers missed him.

* * *

He had always wondered why he had left his duster. As he recalled it had been left on the banister of the Summers' house. He hadn't really thought about it, he had tried not to think about anything that had happened in that house, that night or any other night.

He frowned up at the window that he knew so intimately and lit a cigarette. He leaned back against the tree and picked at the sleeve of the short black leather jacket. He wondered if the Bit would recognise him. His hair was still blonde and he still wore the black shirts, pants and heavy boots, but without the duster, he just didn't feel himself.

Well, at the least the himself he had been, the one she had known.

Only one window was lit; Joyce's room as he recalled. He flicked his cigarette away and thrust his hands into his pockets. He crossed the road, his eyes darting around for any sign of the young Slayer he had earlier witnessed in action.

He paused on the porch and realised what a twat he was. He thought she'd still live here? With her sister... gone, and maybe some of the others too, why would Dawn stay? Who knows, maybe she was married with children, living the American dream in some place that wasn't Sunnydale.

He was on the verge of leaving when he sighed; what had he told himself about _trying?_

He sniffed and pulled his shoulders back as he sauntered to the door. When he was sure the familiar, cocky bravado was in place, he knocked.

* * *

Todd yawned and turned to look at his sister, who was sitting up in bed with her notebook propped against her knees.

"I don't get it," she said finally and threw her pen onto the desk beside her bed.

"Ask Willow," he told her.

"I guess," she conceded and picked the books off her bed and placed them in an untidy pile on her desk. "Night, Todd."

"Night, Chris," he answered and rolled toward the wall as she clicked her bedside lamp off.

She had barely lain down when they heard the knock at the door. They sat up and frowned. Todd's hand went instinctively to the stake by his bed.

"Invite," she hissed at him.

"Who said I was expecting a vamp?" he answered.

There was no sound from their mother or Edward's room so Chrissy pulled back the bedclothes and climbed out of bed. Todd rolled his eyes and turned over to go to sleep. Chrissy walked quickly down the hall.

"Chrissy?" Buffy asked, tying her robe together as a dishevelled Edward appeared in the doorway of his room next door.

"Someone's at the door, Mom," Chrissy told her. "I got it."

Seeming satisfied, Edward returned to his room and Buffy nodded.

Muttering curses her mother would have been shocked at; Chrissy jogged down the stairs and swung the door open, forcing a smile at the bleach blonde on the porch.

He gaped at her. Coincidence? Just his bloody luck! The Slayer from earlier that night was smiling at him. He gaped at her, noticing the spookily familiar green eyes and hand on hip stance. Her long hair, so dark a blonde it was almost brown, was pulled back and she was wearing loose flannel pyjamas. Her face was almost elfin, slim with slightly rounded cheeks and a mouth that he instinctively knew could create a smirk to rival his own.

"Can I help you?" she asked pleasantly.

He only stared at her, too shocked to speak. Not only had she replaced his Slayer, but she was living in her house?

"Hello?" she asked, somewhat irritated.

"Chrissy?"

Spike jumped when he heard the spine-tinglingly familiar voice. Memories came flooding back.

_"I'm counting on you to protect her."_

_"I was torn out, by my friends."_

_"You're a thing! An evil, disgusting _thing!_"_

_"Ask me again why I can never love you."_

He gulped and opened his mouth to speak to the young girl, but then she appeared at the top of the stairs.

Suddenly, the madness created by the guilt his soul had dumped upon him threatened to return.

He had seen this so many times in his delirium, her standing there, her opening that pretty mouth and telling him she could never forgive him for what he tried to do. Even when Lydia had found him and nursed him back to his former self, he still had the fantasies, harmless little daydreams that never changed. The years rolled by, but in his head, she never changed.

He imagined her as she looked now.

Preserved. Unchanged.

Beautiful.

"Chrissy, who is it?"

She descended the stairs and he did the only thing his conflicted mind could come up with.

He fled, the one word she uttered ringing in his ears.

_"Spike?"_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Things Change**_  
**Chapter Two  
**

He shook his head hard to rid himself of the image. Not her, not her, he told himself. Wrong, wrong, wrong. With a jolt he realised he was slipping.

"Spike, focus," Lydia tapped his face and grabbed his chin hard to force him to look at her. "Stop it!"

"I hurt her!" he moaned.

"You did," she answered brutally. "But you want to make it right, don't you?"

He looked at her, the long jet-black hair and brown eyes. He nodded.

"Then you need to get a grip, Spike," she told him.

He almost smiled as he pictured her sitting beside him on the kerb, frowning at him, telling him to get a hold of himself. He missed her and he had promised her he would make it right. That was the only reason he had come back weeks after Lydia's death.

"You have to see her, Spike," she had rasped.

"Lydia," he snapped. "Would you shut up? Save your strength."

"I'm fine," she answered. "I could still whup your ass if I wanted to. Now you listen to me, you brain dead wanker, when I die - "

"Lydia," he cut in softly. "Don't. You are _not_ goin' to die."

"Funny," she smiled. "I can see the bright light, I'm going towards the light."

"Don't joke about it!" he burst out.

"What do you want, Spike, huh? Want me to whimper and whine about how I don't want to die, I want to live? Forget it. People die, Spike, you know it, I know it, deal with it. Now, when I die, you get the hell back to Sunnydale and you tell Buffy you're sorry."

"Then what?" he asked. "How am I s'posed to know what to do if you aren't there?"

"You'll know. I never intended to go with you anyway. You can make your apologies and leave, or you could stay. It's really down to you," her fingers had clenched on thin air and he grabbed her hand with both of his to reassure her, squeezed it and kissed her knuckles. "Promise me, Spike, promise me you'll do this. If I know you will, then I know you can live in peace."

The desperation in her voice killed him and he met her eyes. He almost jerked away when he saw the fear in them.

"I promise, doll," he had said, "but please don't go. I _need_ you."

"I love you, Spike."

"I love you too," her eyes had fluttered shut, but the small smile on her face told him she had heard.

It was the first and last time he had ever told her he loved her.

He lit a cigarette and clenched his jaw to stop the repetitive thoughts stumbling around his head and crashing into each other.

He took a long drag then threw the cigarette away. He rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over his head. He so wasn't ready for this. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, so to speak. He really hadn't been thinking clearly when he loaded up the car and drove back to Sunnydale.

He should've just stuck with the car. He should have kept the car and ignored Sunnydale, now _there_ was a plan. Lydia had been shocked when he had said he was going back to Sunnydale for the car a year after she had found him nearly seventeen years ago. Daft now he thought about it, but he hadn't been thinking clearly at the time. So he had dragged Lydia and her car back to Sunnydale. They didn't stay long, barely an hour. They found the car and left, despite Lydia's protests.

He hadn't seen the Slayer, her sister or her friends. He'd been happy about it at the time, now he just wished he had gone to the Slayer, said sorry and left. But he hadn't.

This was stupid, she had moved on, he - in his own way - had also moved on. Coming back here was senseless.

He stood up and kicked at a stone. Ah, hell. He wandered along the street, hands jammed into his pockets and his shoulders hunched.

"Oh, my God."

He froze, his upper body swaying forward at his sudden halt. Then he carried on walking; ignoring the hurrying footsteps that chased him.

"Spike!" the woman grabbed his arm and pulled him to a sharp halt.

He looked down at her and frowned.

Buffy had been unchanged. Huh, maybe the Peter Pan theory - the one coherent and sensible thought that had flitted briefly through his mind - had been wrong. Him, wrong, who knew? He regained his focus and stared at the woman.

Her hair was short and the familiar red, slightly curled, her hazel eyes identical to how he remembered. Her clothing was more mature and the faint lines beginning to appear around her eyes betrayed her age.

"Willow?" he asked.

* * *

"C'mon, Mom," Chrissy said, pacing in front of her mother who was seated in shock on the stairs. "Who the hell is Spike?"

"Chrissy, since when did you start training as an Inquisitor?" Todd asked.

"Cut the History crap, Todd," she answered. "I just wanna know who the bleached guy is, turning up on our doorstep after midnight, and why Mom suddenly goes catatonic at the sight of him."

"Chrissy," Buffy said quietly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Your mother's right," Edward agreed. "Go on up to bed."

"But why won't you tell us?" Chrissy pressed, ignoring Edward.

"Because it's none of your damned business!" Buffy yelled and jumped up. "It was a long time ago, Christina, and it happened to me, not you!"

Buffy pressed a hand to her mouth and turned to run up the stairs, but Todd blocked her path.

"Mom, we didn't mean - "

"I know, I know," Buffy nodded. "I'm sorry, Chrissy."

Chrissy nodded and folded her arms around her waist.

"I'm sorry," she answered quietly.

"But couldn't you tell us who he was, Mom?" Todd asked.

"Todd," she warned and he nodded, knowing that when his mother used that tone of voice, it was time to back off.

She eased past Todd and when she reached the hallway, broke into a run. She slammed the door behind her and slid down the door, tears running down her face as she tried desperately to wipe them away.

She wasn't crying for him, she _wasn't _crying for him, it wasn't right, she shouldn't cry for him.

Then a thought so terrible that it made her stomach churn hit her: What if he had come back to hurt her? What if he had come back to hurt her children?

What if she had to stake him?

A thousand times, she had pledged to her friends that he wouldn't last long if he came back to Sunnydale.

A thousand times she had cried herself to sleep when she remembered the point when everything had gone so very wrong.

A thousand times, she had hated him.

And a thousand times, she had begged the Powers to bring him home to her.

_What if she had to stake him?_

Even after everything - the sex, the insults, the times he had helped her, hindered her, made her delirious with joy and weep with self loathing - even after all that, she knew deep down that couldn't stake him.

She never could and she couldn't now.

* * *

"_You_ went ape-shit?" Spike asked.

"Not quite how I would have put it," Willow answered. "But yeah."

"And Xander stopped you with yellow crayons and love?"

"Yup."

"That's very sad."

Willow laughed and shook her head at him.

"You haven't changed," she sighed, breathless from her fit of laughter.

"Yes, I have, Red," he replied and drew invisible patterns on the table with his index finger.

"You mean the soul?"

He started and his finger jabbed across the table in a sharp motion.

"Soul?" he asked. "What soul?"

"Giles took me to England," she said, instead of answering the question. "And taught me to live with my magic. I opened a door, Spike, one that couldn't be totally closed. I don't do magic much, I'll do the odd spell every now and then to help out, but mainly I have a higher level of understanding. I can see your soul, Spike. I can see your pain too," she lowered her gaze for a second, before asking. "Who was she?"

"My salvation," he answered quietly.

"I get that," Willow smiled.

"I'm sorry," Spike muttered after a short silence.

"For what?"

"Tara," Willow flinched at her name and he lowered his eyes. "I just meant… She was a nice person, I didn't really know her, but she was nice and I know she loved you. Maybe if I hadn't left, I could've done something."

"No, you couldn't," Willow sighed. "It was just one of those things."

"I hate them things," he said.

"I hear ya," she returned.

"Will," he asked quietly. "How did it happen?"

"I told you," she said, frowning. "Tara… died and I lost it. Then Xander saved the world with love and Crayola."

"I wasn't talking 'bout that, Red, I was referring to the Slayer. How did she…" he gulped hard and took a deep breath. "Was it painful? Was there a reason or did a vamp just get lucky? Have himself one good day?" he spat out the last words, remembering a night almost eighteen years ago when he told her she had a death wish.

"What are you talking about - " Willow's eyes widened. "_Oh_. Spike, Buffy isn't dead."

"Then the jailbird's dead, right?" Spike asked quickly.

"Faith? No," Willow shook her head. "Spike, where did you get the idea Buffy was dead?"

"I saw…" he ran his hands over his head. "I saw a Slayer! All chipper with the hacking and staking. I _know_ a Slayer when I see one, Red!"

"You saw - " Willow lowered her eyes. "Buffy's not dead. You _said_ you saw her."

"I thought I was imagining it," he answered gruffly. "I thought I was slipping. That's why I ran. If that wasn't a Slayer I saw, then what the hell was she?"

"That's not for me to say," Willow hedged. "But Buffy is _not_ dead. She's not going to die."

"It's in her job description," he snapped.

"Spike!" she gasped and stood up. "If you're going to talk like that, you can get out, understand?"

"Sorry, but I just don't understand."

"Spike, Buffy's half-demon," she lowered herself into her seat again. "And it's my fault."

* * *

"Spike's back?" Dawn asked, unsure whether to summon the hate she had felt about his attempted rape of Buffy, or the joy she always knew she would feel if he ever returned.

"Sshh," Buffy hissed and tiptoed to the door of the kitchen.

"I thought Chrissy and Todd were at school?" Dawn asked.

"But Edward's around," Buffy answered and shut the door. "I don't want him to know."

"But you're going to tell the twins, right?"

"No," Buffy said firmly. "They don't need to know about it."

"They have a right to know who their fath-"

"Aunt Dawn!"

Buffy widened her eyes at Dawn, who immediately snapped her mouth shut and opened her arms to engulf her niece and nephew.

"It's so great to see you!" Dawn said, hugging them tightly.

"Oh my God!" Chrissy cried. "I have to show you this really cool dagger I got," she flitted out of the room and could be heard running up the stairs.

"Why don't you go help her, Todd?" Buffy suggested.

"It's just a dagger - " he started.

"Todd," she warned in the same tone she had used the previous night.

"Going, going," he backed away to the door. "Gone."

Buffy clicked the door shut after him.

"I've forgotten about him, Dawn," Buffy said firmly. "And I don't want him brought up again."

She turned away from her sister and opened the refrigerator to look for something to eat. Dawn stood up from her seat and put her hands on her hips, frowning at her sister's back.

"Then why did you call your son William?"


	3. Chapter 3

**_Things Change_**  
**Chapter Three**

Chrissy whirled around and the sword connected with a loud clang of violence against her opponent's sword. Todd stepped back slightly and she pulled her sword back and pushed it towards him, but his sword met hers and he grinned as he threw her backwards. She landed with a grunt on the training mat.

"You are so gonna pay for that," she hissed and jumped up, attacking him with renewed frenzy, using her kicks to knock him back.

"Take it easy!"

The twins stopped and glared at each other, panting. They turned and looked at Edward Thorpe who was frowning at them, leaning against the training room wall.

"She started it!"

"He started it!"

They glared even more darkly at each other as the yells that had echoed around the room in perfect unison died down.

"Well, I think we can safely say you are both capable of using a sword, but do you really have to go at each other so brutally?" Edward asked, pushing away from the wall and walking towards them.

"Well, what are we s'posed to do, Ed?" Chrissy snapped. "He can take it, we can't treat each other like glass, the demons won't."

"I know that, Christina," Edward replied calmly. "But as your Watcher - "

"You're not our Watcher," Chrissy said coldly and left the room.

The two men exchanged glances and Todd put his sword in the cabinet. He turned slowly and leaned against the vaulting horse.

"Sorry, Ed," Todd said.

"I'm used to it," Edward sighed.

"It's just that, y'know, you _aren't _our Watcher," Todd said, not lifting his steady blue gaze from the older man.

"Then what am I?" Edward asked.

"Some guy who got sacked from the Council and came to the Hellmouth where he discovered the Slayer's children, who turned out to be some sort of living prophecy. Some guy who took it upon himself to move into their house and train up the prophecy children."

"I must say that's a very cold way of putting it," Edward observed.

"No offence," Todd shrugged, unconcerned. "But you _do_ know how hostile Chrissy can be."

"And how tactless you can be," Edward answered.

"I am not tactless!" Todd cried. Edward raised his eyebrows and Todd sniffed. "Guess we get it from Mom."

"You don't," Edward stated. "Your mother is neither tactless nor hostile."

"Guess we get it from _dad_," he made air quotes. "Unless me and Chris are some sort of immaculate conception?"

"No," Edward replied. "Now, hadn't you better get home and shower? I thought you were helping your mother in the shop today?"

"Yeah," he shrugged and walked out of the training room into the Magic Box, without so much as a goodbye.

"Todd?"

"Yeah?" Todd turned back and waited expectantly.

"Nice sword work."

"Thanks, Ed," Todd said and craned his neck to yell at Chrissy. "I've got first dibs on the shower!"

"Hey," she protested. "Ladies first!"

"You're no lady," he retorted.

Buffy watched anxiously as her children walked out of the shop, bickering as usual. When they were gone, she glared her sister into silence. Dawn closed her mouth and poked her chin a little higher in a gesture of defiance. Buffy smiled at a customer and accepted their purchases. She rang them up quickly and handed them back to the Gothic woman in a bright Magic Box bag.

"Watch the shop for a minute," Buffy hissed.

Dawn shrugged and moved towards the cash register as Buffy went to the training room. Edward was scrawling in a journal and didn't notice her come in. She paused by the punching bag that had hung from the ceiling ever since this room had been converted and had been solely Giles' and hers.

She waited for Edward to turn and notice her, when he didn't she shrugged and spun in a roundhouse kick, slamming her foot into the bag. Edward jumped with a loud yelp; he looked up in time to see the punching bag swing to meet Buffy head on. She merely held up her hands and stopped it an inch in front of her hands.

"There are other ways of getting my attention, Buffy," Edward said, grasping his chest.

"I wasn't trying to get your attention," she answered as she laid into the bag with fierce punches.

She had carried on her training and her patrolling and it had only been in the last few days that she hadn't patrolled. She missed it and silently cursed Edward for stopping her.

"I'm patrolling tonight," she told him.

"Why?" he asked, raising his voice slightly.

"Because I'm the Slayer," she stated.

"But, Buffy," Edward sighed and reached for her elbow.

Her Slayer reflexes got the better of her and the elbow he had reached for flew backwards and smashed into his nose.

"Oh, Edward!" she cried, whirling around to wake hold of his arms. "I'm sorry, but you should know better!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I wanted to talk to you without you pummelling a punching bag," he shouted, blood dripping from his nose onto his crisp blue shirt.

Buffy reached for the towel that was slung over the vaulting horse and handed it to him.

"I'm the Slayer, I want to do my duty," she said and put her hands on her hips.

"You're also part-demon," Edward returned, his voice muffled through the towel.

Buffy's eyes blazed and Edward found himself slammed into the far wall. Buffy frowned at him from the middle of the room.

"Really not my day, is it?" he muttered.

"Since when has that been an issue, Edward?" Buffy asked, pacing. "I mean, you live in my house, eat the food I cook and put on the table -"

"Technically, you microwave it," Edward interrupted, hoping humour would soften her obvious bad mood.

"And again, not the issue," she snapped. "You take over my training room and take it upon yourself to train up _my_ children, when I was doing _perfectly _well _on my own._"

"I'm sorry if you feel that way, Buffy," Edward said quietly. "I thought it would help, I thought if you didn't have to worry about Todd and Christina's training programme _and_ the shop, you'd have more time to yourself."

Buffy stopped her pacing, looked up at him and sighed. Great, now she had guilt.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she apologised and he lowered gently to the floor. "But since Dawn's been back and knows about Sp-. She's, uh, just been going on about talking to Chrissy and Todd and asking my why I called Todd, William if I wanted to forget… their dad."

"William was his father's name?" Edward asked, his voice cautious. "Todd's name is William?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then why do you call him Todd?" Edward asked with raised eyebrows.

"It was his middle name," Buffy explained. "William Todd. I changed my mind about his name, but it was already on the birth certificate, so we always called him Todd."

"I see," Edward murmured.

"And usually I would just go out and pummel some nasties if I felt bad tempered," Buffy said, more to herself than Edward as she resumed her pacing. "But you won't let me and the punching bag isn't as satisfying."

"If you want to patrol, then I really can't stop you," Edward said and dabbed his nose experimentally.

"True," she shrugged and walked out of the room.

* * *

"Mmmm, cookie dough," Chrissy grinned and slurped ice cream from her lips.

"How can you _eat _that?" Todd asked and licked mint choc chip from the back of his spoon. "It's disgusting. Look at the colour, it's not healthy."

"And nuclear green is natural, is it?" Chrissy asked. "Hey, Mom. What you got?"

"Chunky Monkey," Buffy told her and slid into a seat opposite them.

"Now that's disgusting," Todd said and glanced at his sister who nodded in agreement.

"So, you two really enjoy patrolling?" Buffy asked, stirring her ice cream, watching it melt into warm ice cream soup.

"Yeah!" they said and laughed.

"Why'd you come tonight?" Todd asked.

"I like to patrol," Buffy shrugged.

"It was actually fun," Chrissy said. "Who else can say they bonded with their mom over a staking and ice cream?"

"I love you two," Buffy said suddenly. "You know that, right?"

They exchanged glances and looked at their mother suspiciously.

"You aren't about to tell us we're grounded, are you?" Chrissy asked.

"Or that you've gotta go somewhere for a time?" Todd suggested. "'Cause we don't mind."

"Except the grounding bit," Chrissy finished.

"Yeah," Todd agreed. "We mind that."

"No, I just wanted to tell you that, make sure you knew," Buffy mumbled. "In case things change."

The twins shrugged as they continued the argument over ice cream and Buffy's mind drifted back to Willow's visit that morning.

"Willow, what are you trying to say?"

Willow sighed and twisted her fingers, looking from Buffy to Dawn.

"Hey, Dawn, how's Anya? And your job? Good, I hope? You just got here? We're going to have some serious catching  
-"

"Willow," Buffy warned. "_What is it?"_

"I saw Spike," Willow admitted quietly.

"You saw him?" Dawn squealed. "You mean he didn't leave town after he saw Buffy last night?"

"No, he didn't. He said he saw you, but he thought he imagined it. He had seen Chrissy before, he thought you were dead, Buffy."

"Please tell me you didn't tell him anything," Buffy moaned.

"I told him about Tara," Willow said quietly. "But I didn't tell him about Chrissy and Todd -"

"Good," Buffy said, laying a hand on Willow's arm when her best friend's face clouded with sadness, "Willow, he can _never_ know."

"I let slip about you," Willow admitted.

"What?" Buffy nearly shouted. "He _knows_? About me? About the demon thing?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's not her fault," Dawn said, pushing her frantic sister into a chair.

"He's changed as much as you have, Buffy," Willow said quickly. "He's changed more than you'll ever know."

As the memory of Willow's admission played out in her mind, a tight knot of dread twisted in Buffy's chest. She glanced at Chrissy and Todd and then down at her molten ice cream.

_He's back_, she thought.

And she knew he wasn't going to leave any time soon.

* * *

Dawn paused the video and went to answer the door. _Honestly, _she thought. _You'd think an intelligent man like Ed would remember to pick up his keys._

But when her hand touched the door, she knew instinctively it wasn't Edward.

She pulled the door open slowly and met the man on the porch with an impassive face.

"Hey there, Niblet," Spike said, smiling almost shyly while grasping at his confidence as it ebbed away from him.

She punched him hard in the face.

Then she leapt into his arms and held him like she would never let him go.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Four **

Author's Note: There's a flashback in this chapter, hence why I've signposted the times.

* * *

**Present Day (16 years after _Grave_)**

Spike stumbled backwards, clutching his face and muttering curses. Suddenly, he felt Dawn's weight against him and closed his eyes, readying himself for her attack. To his surprise, she didn't hit him, kick him, or cause him any damage with her surprising strength. When he opened one eye cautiously to look at her, she had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist and was sobbing with her face buried in his chest.

"There, there, love," he said, patting her back a little more awkwardly than he intended. "What's all this?"

She lifted her face to look at him and he couldn't help smiling. She really had grown up to be quite the beautiful woman. How old would she be now? Thirty? Thirty-one? She didn't look it. Her hair was shorter, she was slightly taller and curvier than he remembered, but those clear blue eyes were exactly how he remembered them.

"You've… changed," he said.

"It's called growing up," she replied and disentangled herself from him. Catching the hurt expression on his face, she softened. "You haven't changed much."

"People keep saying that, but I have," he shrugged. "I missed you, Bit."

"I'm not a Bit anymore, Spike," she laughed. "In fact, I'm getting married next week."

Spike's jaw fell as he stared at her.

"You what?" he asked.

"Married," she took his hand and pulled him into the house. He stiffened as he neared the doorway, but was surprised to find there was no barrier. She pushed him onto the couch and settled cross-legged beside him. "I've been living in New York with Anya," she continued.

"Why'd you move there?" he asked.

"My job," she said proudly. "I work on the New York Times."

"You're a _journalist?" _he asked.

"Yep," she said. "I joined the school paper in High School and realised I loved it. So when I got the job in New York, I left. Couple of years ago, Anya turned up and we've been roomies ever since, but she's keeping the apartment when I move in with Josh."

"Josh?" he repeated. This was so sudden, one minute she was punching him, the next hugging him and crying and now she was chattering away like nothing had changed. He couldn't help liking it.

"Yes," she replied dreamily. "He's so amazing, Spike, even you'd like him. Buffy thinks he's great, and so do Willow and Xander. He came here a few weeks ago for a barbecue. It took a while, but I think I've found The One."

"Good for you, Dawn," Spike smiled.

"What about you?" she asked. "I've told you all about me, what about you?"

"What's to say?" he shrugged.

"What happened to you in the last sixteen years, Spike? Where did you go? I won't ask _why_ you went, I already know why," there was a note of accusation in her voice.

"You know?" he asked and looked at her.

"Yeah, Xander told me while we were taking care of Jonathon and Andrew. I take it you know about Willow?"

"She told me."

"I'll be honest with you, Spike," Dawn sighed. "I hated you for a long time, but I couldn't help missing you. After a while, as more years past, I stopped hating you and started wishing you'd come home," she reached for his hand, fingers gently touching his. "Were you all right?"

"I was fine, I had someone looking after me," he admitted.

"Like a girlfriend?" she looked almost disappointed.

"No," Spike laughed. "Lydia was definitely _not _girlfriend material."

"Lydia? That's who looked after you?" Spike nodded and Dawn made herself more comfortable. "Tell me about her?"

"When I left Sunny D," he began quietly. "I went to this demon bloke. See, I thought if I could just be the man your sis wanted me to be, she could forgive me. So I took all the tests, did everything I was s'posed to do and got what I wanted. I got… my soul."

"_What?_" Dawn asked, shocked beyond any other word, Willow had said he had changed, but she never mentioned a _soul_.

"Yeah, go my soul all fine and dandy, then the stupid thing made me realise I wasn't good enough for her to begin with and what I did to her could never be forgiven. You want the truth, pet?" Dawn gulped and nodded. Spike looked her in the eye as he continued. "Knowing that drove me round the bend. That and remembering all the people I hurt. Unlike the great poof, I didn't brood, I went crazy. That's when Lydia found me. I still had enough of a mind to go back to England, that's when it went downhill. There were… mirages, of people I'd hurt, killed. Mirages of Buffy… and you."

"Me?" Dawn asked in a quiet, almost squeaky voice.

"Yeah, you. Not being able to protect you from Glory," he was silent for a minute, then seemed to shake himself out of his trance. "There was this girl, Lydia Green, her name was. She'd been in a childrens home since she was ten, had attitude problems they said, her mother was a drunk and her dad beat her. Anyway, she was eighteen and out on her own when I met her. But she was doin' well for herself, had a good job in an office - not her cup of tea, but she didn't complain - and a decent flat. She found me at this bar. She knew what I was, she told me later she'd been attacked by a vamp when she was fifteen when she was running away from the home. She said some bloke in an overcoat saved her. Anyway, she knew what I was, and she dragged me outta that bar and took me to her place. When I came to, she was standing over me with a stake and the worst glare you ever saw," he smiled slightly at the memory.

"Why didn't she kill you?" Dawn asked.

"Said I was too pathetic to kill, which was why she took me outta the bar. Said there was something off about me, must've still been drunk or it was the craziness talking, 'cause I told her everything. I told her about Dru, about the Slayers I killed, about Buffy and Angelus, about Harmony, the chip, Harris, Red, you, the soul. Told her absolutely everything."

"Then what?"

"Then she asked if I wanted to move in," he shrugged, chuckling. "Said the rent was too much for her. Daft bint didn't seem to notice I was bonkers, which was why I said yes. But she did know. She had the foulest mouth you've ever known, the meanest slap and the worst attitude ever," his voice became wisful. "I called her Bambi, 'cause she had the longest, skinniest legs you ever saw. Girl was a right bitch and a half, but I loved her. She saved me. If it weren't for her, I'd probably still be in that bar. For a year, she helped me and after a while, things made sense. I got a job and we hung out, I didn't care she was the only friend I had. Then she decided she wanted to up sticks and move to America 'cause her dad had found her. So I came with her. Soon as we arrived in New Orleans, I brought her and her car to Sunnydale."

"You came back?" Dawn asked incredulously. "You came back here a year after you left and didn't come to _see_ us?"

"I wasn't thinking right even then, Dawn," he told her. "I came back for the car, the DeSoto. Lydia said I was a crazy bastard and she was right. We ran a club together in New Orleans, I had a job in Ol' Blighty, in the same bar she pulled me out of -"

"But you said you were… crazy. Why would they give you a job?"

"It was the sleaziest club in Soho, think they give a toss so long as you do your job? So, I had some money from what I'd earnt back in England; she had some money, so we started up this club. Not much, but it paid the rent. Everything was hunky dory for years, I was myself again and me and Lydia were doin' well.

"Then, about a year ago, she got ill. Stupid kid wouldn't go to the doctors, she hated them and detested hospitals, I didn't force the issue, I just thought she was working too hard. Then, six months ago, she collapsed. She was rushed into hospital and they said she had a… brain tumour," Spike was silent, remembering how he had stood by her bed, clutching her hand as the doctor told them the news. "They, uh, said it was inoperable. It was my fault, I shoulda made her go to the doctors. She died, Dawn, almost three weeks ago. Blew all my money on the best," he gulped hard. "Funeral I could get for her. She made me promise that I'd come back here and tell Buffy I was sorry. She said I should make that right.

"That's why I'm here, Dawn, I want to make it right."

* * *

**19 years previously (3 years before _Grave_)**

The man turned the collar of his long overcoat up as he strode purposefully down the street. The rain lashed against him, but he didn't care. His eyes darted around like a nervous rabbit, although he was anything but nervous or scared. His hand closed around the comforting wood of the stake in his pocket. He reached the place he was looking for and slunk into the shadows as he knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" the gruff voice asked.

"Thorpe," the man told him. "Edward Thorpe."

With a grunt from the creature, the door opened with a loud groan and Edward was granted entry. He handed the overcoat to the troll like creature, deftly removing the stake and sliding it into the inside pocket of his suit without being noticed. He walked quickly down the hall and entered the large, warm room with a smirk. He was well aware he was the only human among them, but he wasn't worried, only confident that his fearsome reputation had preceded him as it always did.

"Thorpe," the vampire at the head of the table said. "You're here."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Hunter," Edward drawled, sliding into a comfortable easy chair.

"You will address the Master in the correct fashion," a vampire behind him snapped and yanked his head back, placing a knife at his throat.

Edward chuckled and his arm flew upward, slamming his fist into the vampire's jaw without turning around. He jumped out of his chair and kicked the vampire in the crotch, before burying the stake drawn from his pocket into the vampire's chest.

"I thought no weapons were allowed, _Master,_" Edward asked, twirling the knife he had snatched before his victim disintegrated.

"You should talk," Hunter laughed. His expression turned serious as Edward sat down again and began cleaning his nails nonchalantly with the tip of the knife. "I hear the Council has fired you?"

"Oh, yes," Edward said, a bored note evident in his voice. "Apparently I was becoming too interested in the dark arts. Don't worry, I've had a word with Lord Oak, he said he'll keep my removal hush-hush."

"How did you wrangle that?" Hunter asked.

"My dear Oliver," Hunter shifted uncomfortably at the use of his first name. Edward smirked at his discomfort, slipped the knife into his pocket and continued. "You will find Lord Oak is not adverse to bribery."

"You really are a piece of work, Thorpe," Hunter laughed with a low whistle. "But you did find out what we needed before you got the boot?"

"Yes, the prophecies are to be found on the Hellmouth. I shall fly there tomorrow evening and lay low until the time is ripe."

"Good job," Hunter said, standing up and reaching out to shake the human's hand.

"Thank you," Edward replied graciously and left the room.

He accepted his overcoat from the troll at the door and walked out with his head high. His hand searched the pocket for what he was looking for when he heard the scream. Edward may have been in league with vampires and demons, but he was not completely cold-hearted, despite his protestations to the contrary. He ran along the street and saw a female vampire chasing a teenage girl into an alley. With a sigh, he withdrew his stake and squinted through the rain as he ran towards them. He didn't bother to pull the vampire back, he just staked it and looked at the girl with long black hair and the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen.

"Was that a… _vampire_?" she asked, gasping.

"Yes," he told her. "If you're going to wander the streets at night, I suggest you carry a wooden stake," he showed her his stake as an example.

"Ok," she shrugged, dusting herself down and eyeing him sceptically. "Thanks, that bitch tried to bite me."

Edward smiled as the girl eased past him and ran out of the alley. He chuckled and returned his stake to his pocket.

He searched his other pockets as he walked back to the large building housing his associates. He rolled the grenade in his hands for a minute, before pulling the pin and throwing it through one of the windows. He jogged backwards to watch from a safe distance.

The building exploded and the force threw him backward. He laughed as he stood up, the firemen and policemen would be baffled by the strange parts of anatomy they would find. _Didn't want that lot in on it_, he thought, as he brushed himself down and walked calmly away. _All mine now._

It was a widely acknowledged fact in the demon world that, despite Edward Thorpe's occasional acts of chivalry and his family's firm place in the White Hats Hall Of Fame, he was the most cold hearted and dangerous man you could meet.

And not a man that human, demon or Slayer should cross.

* * *

**Present day - again, (16 years after _Grave_)**

"Well, now I know all about you and you know all about me," Spike said. "How about you tell me what Red wouldn't, eh?"

"What wouldn't Willow tell you?" Dawn asked cautiously, shifting uncomfortably.

"She wouldn't tell me what it means that the Slayer's part demon, why it was her fault and who the bloody hell that girl I saw last night was."

"I can tell you about Buffy's demon-ness," Dawn offered.

"Go on then."

"Buffy told me that you told her she came back wrong," Spike hung his head in shame and Dawn was surprised by his obvious discomfort. "And she told me she asked Tara about it and Tara had said the chip thought she was still dead. After Tara… died and Willow came back from England, Buffy told Willow, Xander and I everything. Buffy asked Willow if she could make sure because she'd been feeling weird. Willow said she'd research it further because there were some books Tara didn't have. It turns out that Buffy had been part-demon since they brought her back. To allow her to cross over, she had to become part-demon; otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to withstand the journey. Willow blames herself, she said it was her idea to bring Buffy back and she was the one who insisted they went through with it."

"How did the Slayer react?" Spike asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"She cried and screamed and shouted that it wasn't fair. Then she had to stop because stuff started levitating and smashing. So Xander called Giles and he came back to help research it. Buffy's demon powers had only just started to manifest. For ages, she hated it, but then she started to train with Giles. When Giles went back to England, she carried on training; normal Slayer training with me and demon power training with Willow. I think she's accepted it and in a way she's grateful 'cause she's sort of immortal - which is why she hasn't changed - so she knows she's always going to be here for Chrissy and Todd."

"Who?" Spike asked and Dawn's eyes widened as she realised what she had let slip. "Dawn, who are Chrissy and Todd?"

She looked resigned to the fact she had crossed the line and in a way, she was pleased. Sure, Buffy would be pissed as hell at her, but she'd get over it just like she got over being pulled out of Heaven, being a demon and having children. Dawn stood up and retrieved a photo from the mantelpiece. Wordlessly, she handed it to Spike.

He stared at it.

It was obviously of the barbecue Dawn had mentioned. She was in the picture, with her arms wrapped around a tall, broad brunette man. He smiled; he liked the guy already.

His eyes wandered over Xander and Willow who had their arms around each other's shoulders. They both looked the same, only a little older. Willow had her other arm around Buffy, who was smiling in the centre of the picture. Dawn was right and his eyes hadn't been lying to him the previous night; she hadn't changed, still as beautiful as ever. Then he looked at the last two people, obviously brother and sister.

He recognised the girl from the previous night, the dark blonde hair, bright grin eyes, confident smile and rounded cheeks over slightly defined cheekbones. The young man he noticed had the same hair as his sister, also slightly curled. He also had the same high cheekbones. He was a lot taller and his bright blue eyes twinkled with good humour. There was definitely something familiar about him.

"Her name's Christina," Dawn said quietly as she gazed over his shoulder at the picture. "His name is William Todd, we call him Todd."

"What are you trying to tell me, Bit?" Spike whispered.

"That you're a father," she sat down and took his hands. "There isn't much time, Spike, you need to know a lot and Buffy will be back soon. Are you listening?"

He tore his eyes away from the picture of his smiling children and nodded.

"Good. Ok, you saw Chrissy fighting last night, but she isn't a Slayer. About a year and a half ago, a man called Edward Thorpe came here. He was sacked from the Council for not following the rules or something and he decided to come to the Hellmouth to fight the good fight. While he was here, he found a prophecy about the twins of a demon Slayer. Because he had worked on the Council, he knew Buffy was the Slayer. He came and told her. She told him she had twins and she was part-demon."

"But she _hates _Council people!" Spike cried.

"I know, but he said he could help. She was terrified, Spike, she thought her children were going to die. She was the Slayer, they weren't, she didn't want them to be a living prophecy. So when Edward offered to help her train them, she wasn't too pleased, but she let him. I think she trusted him more because he wasn't on the Council anymore. They've been patrolling with Buffy for the past year, then a few days ago, Ed told her she should let them go out alone."

"Why?" Spike asked.

"Because if she went with them, they'd rely on her. If she didn't go, they'd learn to fight better and stuff and that would help them. So she agreed, she wasn't happy, but if it meant they'd survive, she'd do it. She loves them to bits. Edward lives here, in my old room. He trains them after school and Buffy helps him. Today she told him she wanted to patrol and he couldn't stop her. I was glad she said that, it's like having the old Buffy back. She's been different for years, but lately she's been Buffy again. She jokes around, laughs with the customers - yeah, she runs the Magic Box for Giles now - and she defies Ed's '_authority'_ every chance she gets. But I think she's grateful he's around, Giles visits often, but I think she feels a little better knowing there's a book type they can turn to if there's a problem."

"I don't understand, Dawn," Spike said, running his hands over his hair. "How could this happen? We're not Blossom and the Bitch Queen!"

"Who?" Dawn asked.

"Angel and Darla," Spike said. "They're the ones with the miracle kid! Stuff like this doesn't happen to _me!_"

"You know about Angel and Connor?" Dawn asked, wrinkling her forehead.

"I saw him a couple of times when I went to LA on business," Spike hastily explained. "How did this happen?"

"Willow said it might be because you were both demons," Dawn offered.

"Demons don't have kids!" Spike shouted. "Well, not vampires and demon Slayer's anyway, those are the _rules_!"

"This was prophesised, Spike," Dawn said matter-of-factly. "In prophecies, there _are_ no rules."

"But it's _impossible_, how can a -"

"Dawn? Who're you talking -" Buffy froze as she entered the living room and saw Spike.

He looked so different, shyer, less confident. _That jacket doesn't suit him as much as the duster,_ she thought abstractly as things started to rattle ominously on shelves.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Things Change_**  
**Chapter Five  
**

Willow closed the door, satisfied that the twins were settled. She went into her living room and flopped down on the couch beside Xander.

"So, what are Chrissy and Todd doing here?" he asked, reaching for the popcorn.

Willow glanced at the tightly shut door of her spare room and then looked at Xander. She toyed with the idea of telling him the truth. Spike was back, with a soul, currently talking to Buffy at her house. Xander caught her odd look and frowned.

"Uh-oh," he said. "What's going on, Will? You have 'something's-going-on' face. Why are they here? And I'm taking a wild guess in thinking that it ain't for the popcorn."

"If I tell you, you'll get mad," Willow answered.

"And saying stuff like that doesn't? Well, ok, it doesn't, but it scares the heck outta me!"

"It's about… Spike."

"What, the evil fiend who slept with the woman I loved, who tried to rape our best friend after making her pregnant, who then skipped town leaving the woman he supposedly loved to take care of her teenage sister, twin babies and a house complete with bills? _That_ Spike?"

"You remember him then?" Willow asked with a wide and very false smile.

"Sure, I've got plenty of memories of bleach boy, most of them - make that _all_ of them - bad."

"See what I mean?" Willow sighed. "You bring him up and you get all hostile!"

"Actually, _you _brought him up," Xander pointed out, "and why would you bring him up when - no, oh _no._"

"What?"

"He's back, isn't he?" Xander started to stand up. "He's back and he's after Buffy. That's why she sent the twins to you, isn't it? She's going to stake him!"

"Xander, sit down," Willow said. "Even if she was, what could you do?"

"Watch and cheer?" he suggested.

"No," she said firmly and pulled him back down onto the couch.

"Willow, you have exactly five minutes to tell me what the hell's going on."

"Ok, it's like this: Spike came back to Sunnydale last night. He saw Chrissy -"

"He _saw _her?"

"Let me finish," Willow told him. "Anyway, he thought she was a Slayer, so he figured Buffy was dead. You probably won't believe this, but he came back to apologise, to make things right."

"That's very funny, Will, now why'd he _really _come back?"

"When he left after that… incident with Buffy, he got a soul from some demon."

"I asked for the real reason," Xander said.

"And that's it."

"You're telling me that Dead Boy Junior has a_ soul_?"

"Yes. Apparently he went a little nuts after he got his soul and he went back to England -"

"Shoulda stayed there," Xander mumbled.

"Before he got there," Willow continued, frowning. "He was just kinda… really, _really _guilty, but as time went on, he was driven insane by the guilt. This woman found him - Lydia - she helped him. He lived with her, then they moved to New Orleans -"

"Hang on, how do you know all this?" Xander asked, a bemused expression on his face.

"I saw him last night and we talked. I told him about me and what happened with Tara and how you saved the world, then he told me about his soul and Lydia. They were in New Orleans, and they were running a club when they found out that Lydia had a brain tumour. She died three weeks ago. That's why he's here, he promised her he'd come to apologise. He saw Buffy when he went to see Dawn last night, but he thought he imagined it, that he was going crazy again, that's when I found him and told him that Buffy was part demon."

"You _told_ him?"

"Yeah. When Dawn brought the twins over, she said he was at Buffy's. Dawn said she'd told him everything, about how Buffy became part-demon, about Edward and about the twins. She said Buffy, Chrissy and Todd walked in while they were talking and Buffy started rattling stuff, y'know? Then when she stopped, she told Dawn to bring Chrissy and Todd to me, they weren't too happy about it," Willow smiled, remembering the glares they wore about being cut out of something they knew was important.

"But we were doing fine," Xander almost whined. "We were helping Buffy, Ed was doing a great job training the twins and Buffy was happy. We don't _need_ him."

"Haven't you noticed, Xander?" Willow asked quietly. "Haven't you noticed how much Buffy misses him?"

"_Misses him?_" Xander burst out. "How could she _miss _the man that tried to rape her?"

"She needed him, despite that, despite everything, she needed him."

"She had _us_."

"But she needed the father of her children, that was something we couldn't give her. It didn't matter how much we loved her, Dawn, the twins. It didn't matter how much we tried to help them, we weren't enough, she_ needed_ Spike."

"She never said anything," Xander muttered.

"I don't think she realised. So, whatever they decide, whether they decide that he should just go or stay and play daddy, we have to support her, ok?"

Xander shifted in his seat and lowered his eyes.

"Ok?" Willow repeated, a little more forcefully.

"Ok," he relented. He turned his attention to the TV for a while, before turning to Willow and asking. "Was he impressed? When you told him about how I saved the world? You didn't leave out the yellow crayon, right? 'Cause that was the best bit. But you told him - not that I care or anything - and he was impressed? Right?"

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked coldly.

"I came to see you -" he started.

"You've seen me, now go and never come back."

"Exactly what I was planning on, Slayer," Spike said. "I was just gonna come here, have a little chat with you and then leave. Turns out things are a little more complicated than that. Turns out you're batting for the other side when it comes to humanity and I have children I knew nothing about."

He knew the words were hard and he knew he really had no right, but it was so easy to fall back into their old habits. He hadn't come here to snipe at her; then again, he hadn't come here to discover he'd been a dad for sixteen years without realising.

Above all else, above the fact that Dawn had grown up and moved on, above the fact that Willow had briefly been a Big Bad, above the fact that the woman he loved, his Slayer was part-demon, above all that, he hated the fact that he hadn't known he had children. He'd never even met them - granted, he'd seen his daughter fight and had seen her on the porch of this house, but he'd never _met _her properly - but he loved them all the same. He hated that he had missed them as babies, their first words, first steps, first day at school.

Most of all he hated that he hadn't been there when Edward Thorpe turned up and announced they were part of a prophecy.

And he hated Buffy for not letting him know.

"You left, Spike," she replied quietly and something in her voice made him realise she felt betrayed. "You left and I didn't know where to find you. I tried to find you, but I couldn't. You think I wanted to do it alone? You _left, _Spike."

"I had to," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Because of what I tried to do to you."

"And you thought leaving would make it go away. I hated you for it, Spike; I hated that you were able to make me so weak. Then, when I found out I was carrying your children, I couldn't hate you anymore because I needed you, and you weren't there for me," her voice broke and he looked up to see her crying. "I always thought you'd be the one that wouldn't leave, how ever much I told you I hated you I always thought you'd stay."

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said, taking a tentative step towards her. "I'm sorry for everything I did to you. I'm sorry for everything I said to you, for what I tried to do to you upstairs, I'm sorry for what I did with Anya and I'm sorry for making you pregnant - " he was cut off by a stinging slap around the face.

"Don't say that," she hissed. "Don't you ever apologise for helping create the two most beautiful children in the world."

"I didn't mean that," he answered. "I meant that I was sorry that I couldn't be there for you when you were pregnant, that I couldn't hold your hand through it all."

"It was so hard, Spike," she whispered and he walked towards her. "I felt so alone. I had to be strong and take care of Dawn while everything I knew fell to pieces around me. I wanted to give up."

"But you didn't, that's the main thing. You're a fighter, Buffy, and you fought," hesitantly, he reached out to touch her arm. To his surprise, she didn't flinch away. He took a firmer grip and pulled her closer.

She looked up, her face tear streaked. "I almost did. When the doctor told me I was pregnant and the next day Willow told me I was part-demon, I could have killed you. I thought it was all your fault. I wanted it over."

"I'm sorry," he said and pulled her to him, she rested there, her hands pressed flat against his chest. "I'm sorry that sorry doesn't make it better."

She pulled away and roughly wiped her tears away.

"You have to go," she told him. "You have to go away, now, tonight. Edward will be back soon and Chrissy and Todd will be home in the morning. You need to leave. You came to say sorry and you have. I forgive you, Spike, now it's over. Please, just go."

"I can't, you know I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because things are different now. I have responsibilities here, I'm not gonna walk away."

"You didn't have a problem last time," she snapped.

"Last time was different and you know it. They are _my_ children too, Buffy and you can't keep them from me."

"They _don't_ need you, _we_ don't need you. Just leave!"

"Why? So it's easier on you? What're you gonna tell Chrissy and Todd? You gonna say that their dad left them, that he didn't want them, that he didn't love them? That's not fair!"

"Shall I tell you what's unfair? Unfair is that I was happy and then I was torn out of it by the people I loved most. Unfair is finding out that I'm some immortal demon. Unfair is finding out my children can't have the normal life I want for them. Unfair is some guy coming back after sixteen years and expecting a Get Out Of Jail Free card because he has a soul and wants to make amends!"

"If I had known you were pregnant, I would have come right back, you know that. And you can't - hang on, what did you say?"

"What?"

"Soul? How did you know? Did Red tell you? 'Cause she said she -"

"I can see it," Buffy interrupted quietly, a bemused note to her voice. "I can see it. Why do you have a soul, Spike?"

"I thought if I got one, you'd be able to see me differently," he mumbled.

"Then why didn't you come straight back?" she asked, still awe-struck by her ability to see his soul.

"Because the damn thing made me see I was no good for you," he shrugged. "Please, Buffy, can't we just _talk_."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Chrissy and Todd," he said. "How long after I left did you find out?"

"A couple of weeks," she answered, sitting on the couch. "There had been so much going on with you, Dawn, Willow and Xander and Anya, I didn't notice anything wrong. Then when things died down a little, I felt… weird. Then I started throwing up and Dawn made me go to the doctor."

"And he told you…" Spike's voice trailed off. "I can't believe I missed it."

"You didn't, not really," Buffy said and stood up to retrieve something from the desk against the wall. She came back with a large leather bond photo album. "It's all in there."

He took it from her and she sat beside him. He skimmed through the pages, past pictures of Buffy holding two bundles and grinning in a hospital bed, past pictures of chubby, smiling babies, past pictures of toddlers, their first day at school, at the carnival, their first day of junior High and High School. He frowned over a picture of Xander and Willow pushing Chrissy and Todd on matching bikes.

"They saw them grow up," he said.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "They really helped me."

"Good," he nodded. "At least you had help. Can I…" he glanced up at her. "Can I have one?"

Buffy studied him, the shy way he asked, the way he gazed at the pictures as if they were his only link to his children. With a jolt, she realised they were. She sat beside him and pressed her clasped hands between her knees.

She didn't look at him when she said, "Wouldn't you like some pictures of the three of you?"

His head snapped up and she was dazzled by a wide, genuine smile that she couldn't help return.

"You mean I can meet them?" he asked, the Big Bad in him struggling to stay cool and keep the excited boy in check.

"Yes, but there are rules," Buffy said seriously. "You don't tell them anything about us and you don't make them promises and you don't upset Willow and Xander."

"Willow and Xander?"

"They'll bring them over," Buffy stood up and went to the phone.

"Buffy?"

She paused in her dialling and turned to look at him.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. I know I don't deserve it after what I did," to her surprise, he held her eyes sincerely. "But… thanks."

"You're their dad, however much I tried to pretend you weren't," she regretted the harsh tone immediately when his face fell.

"Uh, yeah," he said. "You call Willow then."

* * *

"Take them to see him?" Xander hissed. "Now?"

"Yes, Xander," Willow answered patiently. "Now are you going to drive us or not?"

"I want no part of this," he said firmly, folding his arms and frowning at her. "I'm not taking them to see that… that _monster_."

"He's got a _soul_."

"Remember Angel?" Xander asked. Baffled by the change of subject, Willow nodded as Xander continued. "I hated him _with_ a soul, I hated him more _without_ a soul and when he got it back, I carried on hating him as much as I did when he had no soul. Why should it be any different with Spike?"

"Because he's your godchildren's father!" Willow answered heatedly.

"And he hasn't been around for the last sixteen years," Xander pointed out. "He didn't change any diapers -"

"You only changed one," Willow interrupted.

"One more than he did! And he never babysat, he never gave them comics when they had chicken pox, he didn't go on the waltzer with them at the carnival, he never bought them Christmas and birthday presents. We did all that. Remember, Willow? We did more for them than he ever did!"

"So are you driving us there or not?" Willow asked from the door of the room the twins were in.

He hesitated for a second before nodding and grabbing his keys. "Only 'cause you're making me."

* * *

Chrissy and Todd exchanged glances as they were herded into the living room. Their Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander stood behind them and their mom was seated on the couch beside a blonde man who was studying them intently.

"Hey, I know you," Chrissy said suddenly, pointing at the blonde. "You came here the other night!"

"Uh, yeah," he answered, looking startled.

"Mom, what's going on?" Todd asked, frowning at Spike. Something weird was definitely going on and it revolved around this guy. He felt familiar, though Todd couldn't think where he'd seen him before.

"Christina, William," Buffy started.

"Uh-oh," Chrissy said. "Edward's found a new prophecy, right?"

"No," Buffy answered with a frown. "Why do think that?"

"You called us Christina and William," Todd said. "You never call us that unless something serious is going on or we did something. We haven't done anything, that thing at school wasn't our fault -"

"It isn't that," Buffy said. She took a deep breath and glanced at Dawn, who nodded, grinning broadly at the blonde man. "This is Spike."

Spike stood slowly and smiled at them as he walked over.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey," the twins said, frowning.

"His real name's William," Buffy said. "You were named after him, Todd."

"Mom, are you trying to say…" Todd stared at Spike in disbelief.

"Yes, he's your, uh… father."

Chrissy studied him, cocking her head to the side in a gesture characteristic of Spike.

"So," she said, slowly meeting his eyes. "You're our dad?"

"Looks that way, pet," he answered.

The front door slammed and Edward came into the living room, smiling pleasantly.

"Hello all," he greeted. "What's going on?"

He noticed Spike and the smile froze on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Things Change_**  
**Chapter Six  
**

"Spike, this is Edward Thorpe," Buffy said, thankful that Edward had entered before the tense silence she sensed was able to fall. "Ed, this is Spike. He's Chrissy and Todd's father."

Shaking himself out of his trance, Edward smiled and extended a hand, pushing Chrissy slightly to one side. Xander stepped forward and put an arm around her.

"Call me Ed," Edward said. "Everyone else does."

"Uh, yeah," Spike said distractedly, glancing at the twins. Todd watched him impassively, but Spike noticed how Chrissy shrunk back against Xander. To make a decent impression, Spike looked at Edward and opened his mouth to answer properly. He frowned, he knew this guy, he looked a little different, his hair light brown where Spike was sure it had once been black and his face somehow… weedier, less sinister. He shook his head a little; he didn't know this guy. When you were as old as he was, faces bled into one another. But there was something so familiar about him… "Do I know you, mate?" Spike asked finally.

"N-no," Edward stuttered. "I think I would have recalled meeting you," he gave a harsh laugh and glanced around at the members of the Summers' inner circle. "I can see you're busy, I'll let you get on, I have some work to do on that new training programme. May I just say that your children are an absolute delight, Spike."

He nodded at everyone, turned, and practically ran up the stairs.

"Yeah," Spike said. "Uh," he glanced at Todd. "You mentioned something about some incident at school? Coupla of rebels, are you?"

"Why do you care?" Chrissy asked, a hard edge to her voice.

"Chrissy," Willow said gently. "Of course he cares."

"Willow," Xander said, glaring at Spike. "If she doesn't feel ready for this, we shouldn't force her, should we, Buffy?"

Buffy stared at Xander, then looked at Spike. The hurt look on Spike's face cut into her, but she had to agree with Xander.

"No," she said softly. "We shouldn't push her."

"Well, I'm glad I get a say in this!" Chrissy shouted and whirled around to face her brother. "How are you ok with this, Todd? We've never met the guy and suddenly here he is and Mom's all like, 'Hey, kids, this is your dad!' Big deal, Mom! I don't give a damn!"

With that she whirled around and marched toward the staircase and climbed them, stomping to emphasise her bad mood. Xander moved to go after her, but Dawn jumped up from the couch and ran over to him. She positioned herself between Xander and the staircase.

"No," she told him in a low but firm voice. "I'll go, she can have the true story without any of your embellishments to make it worse than it is."

"I wasn't going to say anything to her," Xander protested.

"Like you said you weren't gonna keep the yellow crayon story going, but you still dust it down and feed it to us every Christmas when there are much better things on TV."

"Hey," he said. "That's a classic!"

She glared him into silence and went up the stairs to talk to her niece.

"Does anyone want a drink?" Willow asked brightly. "Lemonade? Mineral water? Oh, Spike, want a hot chocolate? Buffy has marshmallows."

"Yeah, Red," Spike smiled. "That'd be nice."

"You like hot chocolate with marshmallows?" Todd asked, talking for the first time since Chrissy's outburst.

"Yeah," Spike glanced at Buffy. "Your mum's mum made it for me a coupla times."

"I like that too," Todd smiled shyly and Buffy did a double take when she realised how alike they were, both smiling at each other, both smiles hovering halfway between shyness and excitement.

"D'ya like spicy buffalo wings?" Spike asked as the two of them followed Willow into the kitchen.

"The ones from the Bronze?"

"Yeah. You go to the Bronze, it's still here?"

"Yeah, me and Chris go sometimes after patrol."

"Why'd you wanna go there? The music's crap."

"It's all right. What music do you like?"

"Punk rock," Spike answered proudly.

"That's 'cause your English," Todd observed.

"That don't mean anything!" Spike protested.

"Guess not," Todd shrugged.

"Chrissy likes English punk rock," Willow told Spike. "She's got a big yen for the…"

"Buzzcocks," Todd filled in, getting the marshmallows.

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "She's got posters and CDs..."

"Least one of ya got taste," Spike said and grinned at Todd.

* * *

Chrissy ran her finger along the CDs crammed onto her shelf and pulled one out. She put it on, turned it up and threw the case like a frisbee onto her desk. Then she threw herself onto her bed and beat her pillow before shoving it under her head. The music stopped abruptly and Chrissy looked up to see her Aunt Dawn leaning against the wall watching her.

"You're creasing my poster," Chrissy snapped.

Dawn moved away from the wall and looked up at the poster of the Buzzcocks. She smiled at Chrissy and sat on the end of the bed, hugging Buffy's old Mr Gordo to her chest.

"You and your dad have something in common," Dawn told her.

"Don't say that," Chrissy hissed and sat up, scooting back to the wall and hugging her knees to her chest.

"Say what?"

"_You and your dad_," Christina repeated.

"Why not?"

Dawn and Chrissy looked up to see Buffy standing in the doorway.

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"Why not?" Buffy repeated, coming to sit beside Dawn on her daughter's bed. "Why shouldn't she call him your dad? He is."

"But… he… I," Chrissy stuttered and eventually gave up.

"He doesn't feel like your dad?" Buffy asked quietly.

Chrissy nodded.

"Of course he doesn't," Dawn said. "You've only just met him, but you haven't given him a chance, at least Todd has."

"Last I saw," Buffy said. "Him and Spike were discussing music over hot chocolate and marshmallows."

"Well, Todd always was the good cop," Chrissy muttered.

"And we all know you're not a bad cop," Buffy said.

"What happened, Mom?" Chrissy whispered, leaning her chin on her knees.

"I think I should tell you and Todd at the same time," Buffy answered. "But it's not pleasant, Chrissy. We both hurt each other a lot, but I think we're better people now."

"But you loved each other?" Chrissy asked quietly.

"He loved me," Buffy told her. "And I did care about him…"

"Are you gonna make me go downstairs now?" Chrissy asked, smirking.

Dawn and Buffy glanced at each other, both noting the Spike-ish smirk.

"Not straight away," Dawn said. "But you'll have to later."

"Ok," Chrissy conceded.

Buffy stood up and hugged her daughter around the shoulders, kissed her hair and went to leave. Xander met her at the bottom of the stairs.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.

"Look, Buffy, this is hard for me. _You_ know I hate Spike, _I_ know I hate Spike, but if you decide you want him to hang around, I'll support you."

"Huh?"

"Don't make me repeat it, Buffy, I think you heard me."

"Yeah," Buffy smiled. "Thanks, Xander, it means a lot to me.

* * *

Dawn reached over and picked the CD case off the desk.

"Music," Dawn said.

"Huh?"

"You and Spike, you both like English punk rock," a dreamy smile came over her face. "I remember I used to go to his crypt and he'd have this playing in the background while we talked."

"How old were you?" Chrissy crossed her legs, put her bent elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand; the position she assumed when she was intently interested in what someone was saying to her.

"When we first started really talking, it was just after I found out I was the Key, I was fourteen. I loved being with him, everyone else was treating me differently and he didn't, he didn't care that I was the Key, he just saw me as Dawn. He had all these names for me, L'il Bit, Niblet, Platelet. He was so cool. Then, when Buffy was away, I hung around with him a lot more, I sorta felt that 'cause he loved her, he would be the only one that understood. I used to hang out at his crypt before Buffy went away, then he came around here to baby-sit me all the time and after a while he started bringing his CDs. For ages the only way I could sleep was if he was there in my room with some of his music playing somewhere in the house."

"You really loved him?"

"I still love him. Sure, I hated him for a while after he left, but the longer he was away; the more I stopped hating him. The thing with Spike is he tries to be the Big Bad vampire - you knew he was a vampire, right?"

"Yeah, I guessed when I saw him on the doorstep the other night, I told Todd and he said he figured he was one of Angel's friends though."

"Angel and Spike? Friends? They're relations, Spike's his Grandchilde, but there's no love lost between them. Anyway, he tries to be the Big Bad, but he's so sensitive. When Buffy was away -"

"Aunt Dawn?"

"Yeah?"

"She was dead, Aunt Dawn, we both know it. You can say it, she's alive now, that all that matters."

"Fine, when Buffy was… dead, he fell to pieces, drinking and playing chicken with sunrise. He stopped coming round and that hurt the most, he thought it was his fault she died so he figured I wouldn't want to see him. He finally came to see me and that was it, we were friends again. I couldn't have gotton through it without him. So, don't be too hard on him, k?"

"Ok. And thanks, Aunt Dawn."

"That's ok, just remember you can't make a fuss when it comes to my wedding, you're wearing that dress, got it?"

"If you've convinced Anya, I'm not gonna subject myself to the same torture you used on her."

* * *

Spike studied the blue haze of smoke that curled upwards from the end of his cigarette. He flicked the ash out across the lawn and watched the fierce orange recede back into the cigarette. He sighed and looked up at the sky.

He really shouldn't have expected the bloody Brady Bunch, but he hadn't exactly expected the Arctic shoulder. He smiled, he saw himself in Chrissy, the hasty decisions and hot temper, and she seemed the stubborn type too. Yep, definitely his daughter. His son was more like Buffy, also stubborn and Spike guessed he had a hot temper similar to Buffy who held it in check as well as his mother.

"I wouldn't mind Chris."

"Oh?" Spike twisted and looked at his tall, dark haired son. "Sit down."

Todd settled beside him and watched as Spike flicked the cigarette down and crushed it beneath his boot.

"She's got an attitude," Todd continued. "She can be irritating, frustrating, stubborn, impatient, bad tempered and hostile, but she's ok. Yeah, she can be all that, but she can be kind, generous and she's a good listener. You just have to get to know her. The problem with Chrissy is she doesn't take well to new people. She still hasn't gotton to like Ed and he's been here almost over a year."

"And you? Do you like Edward?"

"He's all right, bit English -"

"Nothing wrong with that."

"I didn't mean that, I meant he can be uptight, you're a lot more… fun."

Spike turned to Todd and smiled.

"Thanks. But how'd you know that?"

"C'mon," Todd laughed. "Aunt Dawn was always telling us stories about you, about the fights you helped Mom win. She never said your name, but I'm not stupid."

"No, lad, you aren't. You and your sister go on patrols, right?"

"Yeah, Ed stopped Mom going a few days ago, she told him he couldn't stop her forever and she's started going again."

"Sounds like the Slayer I knew," Spike muttered.

"Yeah, according to Aunt Dawn she hasn't changed much, but I think she was just saying that, I think she has changed, but Aunt Dawn doesn't like to say how. Chrissy and I tried talking to Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander about it, but they don't like talking about anything pre-twins."

"You like Red and Harris?"

"They've always been there. They're fun, mom loves 'em and I do. Chrissy adores Willow and Xander's funny and cool."

"If you like that sort of thing," Spike snorted.

"He can be a bit dumb sometimes, but everyone has their faults."

The creak of the back door halted their conversation and they turned to see Chrissy leaning against the door and cradling a mug in her hands.

"Blood?" Spike asked, sniffing.

"Yeah," she answered. "Mom keeps a store of it, gets new every week."

"Why would she do that?" Spike frowned.

"Just in case," Chrissy shrugged. "Sometimes Angel comes here unexpected and needs something to drink, feed, whatever. So she keeps some, she says you never know who might drop in."

Even as she said it, Chrissy realised that the blood her mother replenished weekly wasn't kept for Angel - who more often than not called to warn of a visit - but for the vampire who sat stooped over on their back porch. And she had thought the only vampire her mother knew as a friend was Angel.

"Here," she handed him the mug and sat beside him, the opposite side of him to Todd. "You look underfed."


	7. Chapter 7

**_Things Change_**  
**Chapter Seven  
**

Author's Note: Again with the flashbacks. Like last time, I've signposted it all to make it clearer.

* * *

**26 years previously (10 years before _Grave_)**

He sat back and surveyed the vampire couple. The female was beautiful, flirtatious, and mad as the proverbial hatter. The male whose lap she was snuggled in had a smug grin on his face; his entire demeanour was that of charisma, intelligence and viciousness. He knew of them, in fact they had interested him for a while. He had a knack for seeing the big picture and a vampire with the Sight and another who had killed two Slayers already could only be good for his cause. The only problem was getting them to co-operate. The female was flighty - although that wasn't entirely her fault - and the male was notoriously stubborn and didn't like taking orders.

But Edward had his ways.

He also had the most modern instruments of torture. As well as the older ones, the classics - when you're immortal, you tend to pile them up a little. And Edward had a tendency to grow attached to his favourite implements.

"So," the male vampire began. "You're the Jackal, are you, mate?"

"I prefer Edward," he answered, lacing his fingers and smirking. "And, may I remind you, I am not your mate."

"No," the female vampire murmured. "He has no mates, my sweet Spike, he is so alone," she stood up and danced toward Edward. "The darkness engulfs them. Psst, psst, psst. It calls to me, a deadly dance. May I dance, Spike, can I please?"

"You can that, Drusilla, pet," Spike answered. "First I want to know what Jack 'ere wants."

"Jackal," Edward told him coldly. "Or Edward. Though, _Spike, _I would prefer Master."

"Huh," Spike snorted. "Me an' my Princess don't call anyone Master, no matter what nasty rumours we've been hearing."

"Rumours?" Edward asked. "Intriguing. I'd like to know more, but now I'm more interested in the recruitment."

"Recruitment?" Drusilla asked. "Will there be a party afterwards? With lots of naughty games and tasty things to eat?"

"Only if you join me," Edward replied. "If not, _you_ are on the menu, my dear."

"I don't like your tone, _Edward,_" Spike snapped as he stood up and pushed Drusilla behind him. "You're the human here, me and me lady could take you apart."

Edward grinned and stood up slowly, studying Spike's deadly, confident and - to any other person - sinister stance.

Spike barely even knew Edward had moved before his back was pressed painfully into the wall. Edward smiled maniacally and gave a little shove against Spike's neck with the hand that pinned him to the wall. He could hear Drusilla humming wildly in the background and threw his arm out in a punch as she launched herself at him in an effort to save her lover. She stumbled backward and cupped her face; rocking and murmuring insanities to herself.

Spike snarled and slipped into game face. He kneed Edward hard in the crotch and pushed him away. He pinned him to the opposite wall in the same way Edward had pinned him.

"You're strong," Edward gasped through the pressure Spike held over his throat. "But not strong enough."

With a hard shove, Spike was on the floor, staring in disbelief at the impossibly strong and fast human. He was stronger and faster than the Slayers he had faced and they had been good. He wasn't -

"Human?" Edward asked, pacing in front of the vampires. "No, not quite. You see, I needed your help. I am my lady's only chance. I cannot help her yet, the magicks do not allow me - her most faithful and strong servant - to aid her just yet. I needed your help when - in a few years time - I shall go to the Hellmouth. A prophecy states I need certain things to bring my lady to full strength. It seems you will not co-operate. I could kill you, but I do so enjoy hearing of your antics. I believe you infiltrated the Watchers' Council. I shall do the same, only in a more undercover capacity, and this will aid my cause. So, I shan't kill you. But you really must forget your meeting with the Jackal, do you understand, Spike?"

"Bugger off," he snapped.

"Very well," Edward dragged Drusilla from the floor and held her head tightly between his hands. "You forget this, commit it to daydreams, or I twist your lover's head off."

"Don't. You. Dare."

"You can't stop me, try and I'll kill her. Do you agree to forget?"

Spike glared. He wasn't accustomed to being told what to do, but when Drusilla was in danger…

"Fine," he said and caught a distressed Drusilla as Edward tossed her towards him. "I never saw you, I've never even heard of the Jackal."

"Good man," Edward nodded, opening the door and smiling graciously. "You will never know how much I enjoyed this time together. If only we could do it again sometime."

Spike didn't answer as he swept Drusilla into his arms and strode out, cooing promises of a cruel hunt to reassure her.

* * *

**Present day (16 years after _Grave_)**

"It means you're accepted," Buffy smiled.

"She said I look underfed," Spike muttered.

"Then she gave you blood," Willow said, putting a box of cereal away, frowning at Dawn, who always seemed to slip back into being a teenager when she was in Sunnydale. That usually meant cereal at a time that isn't breakfast and not putting the box away.

"Which means she cares," Dawn said, slurping milk from her spoon.

"But I'm actually a world more comfortable with Chrissy hating Spike," Xander said eagerly. "Can we go back to that? It gave me warm fuzzies."

"Whelp's right," Spike murmured. "She hates me. Bet even Todd hates me."

"You'll find Todd's the generous type," Willow told him. "Chrissy's more…."

"Hostile to everyone but those she's known all her life," Xander finished.

"Shut up, Xander," Dawn poked him. "Hey, where's Ed?"

"Upstairs, I guess," Buffy frowned. "Anyone else see how weird he acted?"

"I thought it was normal," Xander shrugged.

Spike stood up abruptly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'll uh, be going then."

"Leaving?" Dawn yelped. "Now? As in, out of town?"

"No, just somewhere to stay."

"You could stay here," Buffy offered quietly.

Xander gaped at her and Willow and Dawn exchanged excited glances. Dawn only just contained her squeal of delight and was mentally reminding herself to make sure she got Josh to come here to meet Spike.

Willow was pleased that Buffy was giving him a chance. She knew what he had done and she had hated him along with Xander and Dawn. Xander had almost delighted in presenting the evidence for Spike's evilness with a smug "I told you so." She only hated Spike until she realised it wasn't fair because hadn't she done something just as bad? Worse, because she had a soul and therefore no excuse?

But they had forgiven her and accepted her back into the group. She had known Buffy and Xander wouldn't want him back and she had worried that even Dawn had turned on him, that was until she had babysat Dawn and she revealed her concerns.

"I hate him for what he tried to do," Dawn had admitted. "But I still love him and I really miss him. Willow, will he ever come back?"

Willow had said yes he would and for years she had believed it, over time the belief had turned into hope and prayers that he would come back to see what he had waiting for him. Right now, she wasn't shocked by Dawn's happiness at seeing him or Xander's obvious aggression towards him, but she was amazed at how Buffy was acting around him. To tell the truth, Willow had been amazed at the change she had seen in Buffy over the last sixteen years. She had put it down to her demon-ness and motherhood, but she had never thought it would cause Buffy to accept Spike again.

Xander was pissed. He had never liked Spike. In fact, he had hated him, he thought he hated him more when he found out he had slept with Anya. But then he found out what he had tried to do to Buffy and that was when he truly knew what hate was and the awe consuming rage of it was directed solely at Spike. He had been reassured by the fact Buffy never spoke of him, to him that meant she never thought about him, never missed him.

But as he glared at Spike and saw the happy faces of Willow and Dawn and Buffy's soft expression toward her would be rapist, he remembered something….

"Aaahhh!" she screamed, "_God!_"

Xander panicked and cupped her hand in his, desperately trying to calm her down a little.

"Can't you _do_ anything?" he screeched to the doctor.

"This is perfectly natural," the nurse told him over Buffy's yells.

Willow smiled at him from where she stood on Buffy's other side, smoothing her hair back and muttering reassurances that it would be over soon.

"Xander, you can go, I'll stay with her. Go and tell Giles and Dawn everything's fine."

"What if Dawn wants to come in?" Xander asked, closing his ears to Buffy's pain filled screams, cursing himself for saying she'd need a man there.

"She can, I guess," Willow said absently as she gritted her teeth when Buffy clenched her fist around Willow's hand.

Xander nodded and tugged his hand away as gently as possible before hurrying towards the doors. They swung open as another nurse came in and he caught a glimpse of Giles and Dawn sitting outside. He was just outside the doors and walking over to Giles and Dawn when he heard Buffy's tear filled moan of "_Spike_."

That memory, coupled with the revelation he received from Willow that Buffy had missed Spike for sixteen years, was all that kept his mouth shut.

"Really?" Spike raised his eyebrows. "Er, thanks, pet. I'll go on the sofa, you don't have to bother with anything, I'll be fine."

"No, I'll get some pillows and a blanket," Buffy said. "Mom always made up the couch when we had anyone to stay, she always said you should even if someone said they didn't need to."

They smiled gently at each other. The smiles were identical, but different from how they used to smile at each other. Spike had always smirked at her and Buffy couldn't remember ever smiling at him. It was new and somehow… it felt nice.

* * *

Spike sat on the couch and listened as Buffy and Dawn argued quietly upstairs over which sheets to use. Dawn was all for the floral ones.

"C'mon, Buffy, it'll be funny!"

Buffy on the other hand, thought the plain would be better.

"Ok, Dawn. We'll give Spike the floral and when Josh comes, I'll make sure to give him the floral ones too, or maybe the butterfly ones."

"Huh, like Josh would sleep on the _couch._"

"I have my ways," Buffy warned. "He can have the blue, ok? It's girlie blue, that better?"

"I guess."

Spike chuckled and shook his head. They really hadn't changed much, except the squabbles seemed friendlier than the ones he used to hear. He heard Buffy pull the sheets from the cupboard and walk down the hall to the stairs. There was a pause and the sound of a door being pushed open slightly. A groggy voice muttered goodnight and he heard Buffy return it. Dawn came downstairs first; smiling and bobbing like a young girl.

"Where're you sleepin'?" Spike asked, wondering if he had forced her onto the floor or something. He briefly thought she'd have her old room, but then he realised that was probably where Edward slept.

"Oh, me and Buffy share I room when I come to stay. It's fun, we can chat and stuff, it's like being a kid again."

He smiled; to him, she was still a kid, still his L'il Bit.

"So, when's your bloke showing up?"

"Josh?" Buffy asked, coming down the stairs. "You were gonna call him in the morning, weren't you, Dawn?"

"Yep," Dawn said, an obvious note of pride in her voice. "He just has to come now you're here, Spike. He knows all about you."

"All?" Spike asked.

"Oh, Josh knows about vampires and Slayers. I kinda had to fill him in when he found me kicking serious demon ass in a New York alley."

"Don't start now, Dawn," Buffy groaned as she waved Spike off the couch and began to place the pillows down and shake out the sheets. "You're as bad as Xander when you get going."

"Fine," Dawn huffed. She leaned over and kissed Spike's cheek, wrapping her arms around him. He was surprised, but held her tightly, rocking her a little. She pulled away and smiled. "Goodnight."

"Night, Niblet."

She rolled her eyes at the name and climbed the stairs to bed. Buffy chuckled and reached out to tug his coat from his shoulders. They jumped at the touch and looked away from each other.

"Your, uh, coat," Buffy said and he struggled out of it.

She took it and went to hang it in the closet where hers, Todd's and Chrissy's were. Her fingers brushed leather and she tugged it from beneath the heavy coats. Spike's latest leather jacket fell to the floor as she held the infamous duster. She swallowed as she took it into the living room and handed it to him. He jumped when it landed in his lap.

"What -"

"You left it here," she answered quietly. "I kept it, in case you…."

"Thanks, pet," Spike smiled. "That was…"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

She nodded and hurried toward the stairs. He watched her go and then looked down at the jacket. Lydia would have loved to have seen him in this. When he thought this, loss swirled within him; he missed her so much. He wished she were here to give him some advice. He sighed and lay back, punching the pillows that his head rested on.

Yeah, he could have used some advice.

His mind was full of Buffy, Dawn, Chrissy and Todd. But something loomed in the sleepy daze that filled his mind as he dozed off.

It was Edward Thorpe.

* * *

Edward sneaked down the stairs, skipping the fifth stair because it creaked. For once, he wished he hadn't given his power, confidence and his ability to strike fear into the hearts of man, demon and Slayer with only a glance. Though his appearance - his lighter hair and eyes - was more charming, less sinister than when he had been the Jackal, he had none of the charisma he had once possessed.

He prayed that tonight his lady would say it was time and would hand his power back to him. He doubted it, after he had saved her almost seventeen years ago and willingly given her his power, she still was too weak to give it back.

But she would soon, she assured him of it.

Spike heard him creep to the door and twisted his head around to see who it was. He saw Edward pull on his long overcoat on and reach out to the door and sick realisation of who this man was hit him. He jumped up and grabbed him from behind, twisting him around and pushing him against the wall, steeling himself for the easy pain the Jackal would give him. None came and he continued to stare into the wide eyes of an ordinary man.

But it was the Jackal, lighter hair and eyes and his entire demeanour had changed, he no longer exuded power and insanity, he was just… _normal_.

"Jackal?" he asked in disbelief.

Edward stared at him. He had been found out. He had to leave, get away, his only chance was to get his power from his lady and wait for the correct time for the ritual to restore her. He drew himself up and glared at Spike, the shame he felt at his terror masked it slightly.

"I used to be," he snapped, knowing denial wouldn't work.

"What're you doin' here, you bastard?" Spike hissed. "With Buffy, Dawn and my children?"

"I came to help Buffy and the twins," he answered. "I know I used to be evil, Spike, but I swear I was stripped of my powers long ago. I wish them no harm, I swear it."

Spike growled and wrapped his hands around his neck.

He tried to snap it, but found he couldn't. He couldn't take a life, not even when it was a guy who had been the stuff of evil legend. He couldn't kill him, not now he was a not even a shadow of the man he had been.

The moment stretched as they stared at each other. Spike pulled his hands away and punched him, knocking him to the floor. Edward jumped up and punched his back, his anger overtaking the knowledge he was human, and his only power being his immortality.

They brawled, Edward not doing so well. Spike didn't even know why he was doing this, why he didn't just kill him, he could, he had no chip, it had been deactivated at the same time he had received his soul. But he knew he wanted to teach him a lesson, to make sure that Edward wouldn't touch his family, that he would get worse than this if he ever tried to hurt them. He kicked him hard in the stomach and Edward groaned. Spike pulled his foot back to kick him again, but he stopped. He grabbed Edward's arm and yanked him up.

"I don't care who you used to be," he told him in a low voice he hadn't used since the days before he acquired his soul. "And the only reason I don't kill you is because of this bloody soul. But if you ever come back here again, I will kill you, but it won't be quick. I'll kill you slowly, so slowly you'll beg for death. Angelus taught me a thing or two, so I know what I'm doing. Now go, get out of town, if I see you in California, I will kill you. And like I said before, it will be slow, Lydia always said I needed a hobby and you'll be it for a good long while if you don't leave now, understand?"

Edward nodded and Spike yanked the door open, kicking him outside.

Edward sat up and smirked at the closed door.

"Letting me live, Spike, was the biggest mistake you ever made."

* * *

"Hey, sweetie."

Edward smiled at the beautiful woman and stepped into the apartment.

"How are you settling in, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Great," she answered and frowned, touching the bruise on his cheekbone. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

She grinned and sidled up to him, running a hand over his chest.

"Are we ready?" she whispered in his ear, her fingers now running over his temples.

"Not yet, but soon, my lady, soon."

She sighed and walked away from him.

"I get so sick of waiting!" she cried. "If you were a halfway decent servant, I'd be ruling right now. You freed me, you gave me your life force, you're living like I used to. Not that I care, but don't you want your life force back anytime soon? 'Cause I want my own."

Edward frowned at her. He worshipped her, it was true, and for years, he had known the Slayer would defeat her. He had bided his time and when the Slayer was dead, he found the body of the male and released her, happily handing his life force to her. It was greatly diminished by the fact she used so much of it to heal. He grabbed a writhing man from the floor and held him steady.

"Feed," he said.

"Don't order me! You worship me, remember?" she snapped, but placed her fingers against the man's head and sucked the brain from him in a flash of white light.

She smiled at him as he tossed the body of the now insane man into the room with the flesh-eating demon he had tamed over half a century ago in preparation for just this purpose. The screams of the man where quelled by the soundproofed walls.

"There's been a change of plan," he told her.

"I don't like this," she warned him.

"The kids' dad turned up, he's Spike, a vampire."

"Spike?" she asked, then recognition dawned on her face. "Oh! I had fun with that one, if I hadn't needed his info so much, I might have had some more," Edward frowned at her again and she laughed. She turned to the mirror to smooth her red satin dress. "Don't be jealous, Eddie, you know you'll be my Prince."

"He recognised me."

She froze and stared at him in the mirror.

"He did that to your face?" she asked, turning and walking towards him, jabbing sharply at the bruise on his chin.

"Yes," Edward grimaced. "Which is why I need it back."

"Your life-force?" she asked. "Why?"

"Because then I can easily fend him off. He let me go now because he's got a soul, but I don't think he will again. If we are to succeed, I need it back. He would have killed me if he knew of our plan, if he knew I served you. But he didn't, we were lucky, we may not be again."

"What about me?" she cried. "Why does no one think about me? My _pain_! I was trapped for years in that male body, then I was made to live as a mere human for the past sixteen years, my only power is sucking the brains from the disgusting things you bring me!"

"But I am thinking of you!" he protested. "I love you, my lady, you know I do. I want nothing more than to turn this world into a Hell to rival the one you were banished from with myself ruling beside you. But to do this I need to become the Jackal again, I am able to wield the power better than you -"

"Better?" she interrupted in a low cold voice, shooting him an angrily incredulous look.

"Nothing I can do is better than what you can do, my lady," he amended quickly. "But I am able to use the power to a greater extent because of my lesser being status. But I need to power to protect you! If we are to succeed, you must make me the Jackal again."

She studied him and then approached slowly.

"You'll take care of me?" she asked.

"Yes, I always will."

"You'll lay down your life for me?"

"Yes, you know I would."

She pressed her fingers to his head and a black shadow passed down her arms into him, causing them to shriek in intense agony. They were thrown to opposite ends of the room but Edward stood almost immediately.

He gave himself a shake, as though he were getting more comfortable in his body. His light brown hair and eyes had darkened the friendly look his face had worn now wore a mask of cruelty. He looked at the crumpled form of his mistress and grabbed yet another person - a woman this time - from the bench pressed against wall. He lifted the woman as though she were a feather and seated her in front of his mistress. He helped his mistress sit up and guided her hands to the head of the terrified young woman.

When she had fed, he didn't bother to throw the woman to the beast in the next room, but studied his Goddess intently. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Jackal," she said weakly. "Oh yes, you and me, baby, we're gonna rock this world."

"We'll do more than rock it," he smirked and lifted her up, carrying her into her lavish bedroom. "You and I, Glory, will tear this world apart and make it scream. The Slayer will pay, her children will die, her friends will suffer and the vampire will burn."


	8. Chapter 8

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Eight**

Spike paced the floor of the Summers' living room restlessly. He was torn between telling Buffy her lodger was an evil sod called the Jackal or not saying anything at all. He didn't particularly want to admit he kicked the guy's ass, not when she thought he had changed, and there was definitely something weird going on with him.

From their brief meeting twenty-five years ago and the rumours he had heard before and after their encounter, he didn't think the Jackal was the type to sit down and take it like he had done. Spike didn't want to worry Buffy, who had been living a relatively quiet life for the past sixteen years, according to Willow; there had only been one near apocalypse since she went off the rails. He didn't want them all - especially Buffy and his children - to think he had brought trouble with him.

His _children_.

That made his mind up. There was no way he was going to be taken in by Edward. He wouldn't worry Buffy, he'd tell Willow - who now was quite the powerful and restrained Wicca - and call Giles about the Jackal, see if he knew anything.

Something nagged in him to tell Buffy, that she'd kill him if she found out he hadn't warned her.

He grabbed the address book by the telephone and flicked through pages of Buffy and Dawn's writing. He paused with a small smile over the handwriting he knew wasn't Buffy's or Dawn's, but Chrissy's, with a few lines that he knew instinctively were Todd's untidy scrawl. He shook himself and found Giles, wrongly filed under "E" in Dawn's writing. He assumed it was for "England" and wondered why women couldn't do a simple thing like fill in an address book without complicating things with new inventions for filing. He sighed and reached for the phone.

"Spike?"

He froze and shook his head, the phone dropping from his suddenly limp fingers into the cradle with a loud clatter. He put the book down and turned slowly to face the owner of a voice he knew so well. She stood as she always used to, her weight on her left foot, her right hand on her hip, her left arm hugging her stomach. She smiled her crooked smile and her brown eyes lazily took in the homey room. They lingered on the makeshift bed on the couch and then came to rest on him.

"Lydia?" he choked.

"Not exactly, babe," she said and came towards him slightly. He recognised the length of her hair - styled in layers to her chin - as the hairstyle she had treated herself to the day before her twenty-first birthday. She looked exactly that, not the thirty-four years she had been when she died.

"You're not real, Bambi," he whispered, watching her carefully as she wandered away from him and over to the table. She lifted up the duster, studied it with her tongue in her cheek and gave a low whistle.

"Bet you look hotter than hell in this, Spike," she commented, then turned to him and - in true Lydia Green fashion - changed the subject abruptly without any hint as to what made her change it. "Yup. You'd be right in thinking I'm not real," she frowned. "I think. In fact, I haven't got a clue why I'm here. Care to fill me in?"

"This isn't funny," he snapped. "Whoever the hell is doin' this, you stop it now or I'll tear you to pieces."

She smirked.

"Fantastic, that's the Spike I know and love," her face became uncharacteristically serious. "You came back, maybe you're not such a brain dead wanker after all. Or did you just come back 'cause I asked you?"

"Thought it was 'cause you asked me," he shrugged, falling into a familiar routine without even realising, it must have been the 'brain dead wanker' part, it was her favourite teasing insult for him. "But now I'm not so sure."

"Wanna know what I reckon?" she asked and pulled a picture from the coffee table. "I reckon you felt 'em, your kids. But I'm no expert, me not having any kids and all. Couldn't have any 'cause the only guy I ever loved was a vampire who apparently couldn't have 'em, unless the girl was part-demon of course."

"Lydia…" he started.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved her hand. "I know, I know. I didn't come here to go over old ground."

"Then why are you here? I thought you didn't know?"

"I don't," she shrugged. "But as I'm here, I might as well say I'm proud of you. For years you were on the edge and then you were fine, what scared me most about me dying was you going loony again. But you didn't, I'm right bloody proud of you."

"Thanks, doll," he whispered.

"I love you, Spike," she told him, she replaced the picture and walked over to him, sliding her arms around his waist in a familiar gesture that made him forget she was dead and he was in Sunnydale. Suddenly he was in the bar in New Orleans with her whooping over a great night's takings. "Even now, I love you. I don't have a body, I exist in dreams and memories and misty places just out of your reach, but I still love you, even though I don't think I've got a heart anymore. Know what I never got to do when I was alive?"

He shook his head and she leaned up and kissed him long and hard on the lips. When it was over, he looked down.

There was nothing there. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. He turned around and pushed the phone properly into the cradle. He wondered what he was doing up, kissing thin air.

He couldn't remember. In fact, the last thing he remembered was answering the phone, tiptoeing upstairs, waking Ed and telling him there was a call for him. Then he remembered Ed packing hastily and running out, telling him that he had to go to England because his mother was ill. Spike couldn't think why he would still be up. He shrugged and sank back onto the couch, sinking quickly into a dreamless sleep.

Across town, Edward Thorpe leaned back in his chair and smiled.

* * *

"Spike, wake up," Buffy poked him in the ribs and he groaned and rolled over. "Spike! Wake up! Spike!"

"Lydia?" he asked blearily, but as his eyes focused on Buffy, he bolted upright and jumped off the couch. "Uh, Buffy, sorry."

"No problem," she shrugged, wondering why it felt like a problem.

"I just… I had a dream," he muttered.

"That's fine," Buffy held up her hands. "I just wanted to know if you wanted some blood."

"Yeah," he nodded and gathered the sheets together. "That'd be great."

"I'll take that," she reached for them and he handed them to her. "Why don't you go wake Chrissy and Todd?"

He beamed at her and she lowered her eyes at the 60-mega watt smile that seemed to make him look like a different person.

"Thanks," he said and ran upstairs.

She rolled her eyes.

"No problem," she sighed.

Spike crept quietly along the hall and paused outside the door to Buffy's room. He knocked gently and leaned toward it.

"Dawn?"

"Mmm?" came the groggy answer.

"I think Buffy's making breakfast."

"Mmmm? Oh, God."

He chuckled and moved away when he heard her bumping around in her sleep mussed state. He moved down the hall and reminded himself to tell Buffy that Ed had left before he came to a nervous stop outside the door to Joyce's old room. He could hear his children talking and bent closer to listen.

"Anyone ever tell you you've got a fertile imagination, Chris?" Todd asked wearily.

"It's not my imagination, Todd," she hissed, then her voice fell to a hushed whisper. "C'mon, Todd, I just feel weird knowing my dad's a vampire!"

Spike stepped back as through burnt and stood riveted to the stop. Through the crack in the door, he could see his daughter pacing, hugging a fluffy bear to her midriff, her hair pulled into a plait and wearing fuzzy pyjamas. He tried to move, to stop hearing, but the conversation flowed out to him, taunting him.

"You don't mind Angel," Todd countered and Spike felt his anger flare. They knew Angel and suddenly it all made sense. The blood Chrissy gave him was for when Angel visited, Angel knew his children well enough for Todd to use him as an example! What was he, their Godfather? He felt sick at the thought and more than ever wanted to punch Angel's stupid, soul-having, child-stealing face in.

"That's 'cause Angel has a soul, didn't leave Mom when she was pregnant and people don't go missing when he comes here!" Chrissy hissed in return.

The words battered Spike around the head. Yeah, they knew the Buffy and Angel story all right and by the sound of it, the prancing great poof visited often.

"Ok, one, Spike has a soul too. Two, Angel did leave Mom, but yeah, not when she was pregnant 'cause she wasn't part-demon when they were together. And three, don't you remember Monica went missing when he visited when we were like seven?"

"Monica wasn't a person and she was run over by a truck across town, Angel had nothing to do with it. And are you trying to upset me?"

"It was nine years ago, Chrissy!"

"I loved that dog!"

Spike turned on his heel, he'd heard enough. He loved them both more than he ever thought possible and though his son seemed to like him, his daughter obviously didn't want him around and seemed to want Angel to be her dad more than him. It would kill him to leave, but he couldn't stay knowing she felt like that. If she didn't need him, didn't want him… He stomped down the hall, Dawn appeared in the doorway of Buffy's room.

"Hey, Spike," she said. "Where're you going?"

"Tell your sister Edward left last night, there was a phone call. His mum's ill and no, he didn't leave a number, but he said he'd be back soon," Spike told her flatly.

"Spike, what's wrong?" she asked, touching his arm.

He glanced back at the door to his children's room. "Nothing, Bit. See ya."

He pulled free of her clutching fingers and walked downstairs.

She stood and listened to him go into the living room and ran to the top of the stairs in time to see him run outside with his leather duster wrapped tightly around his head. Her eyes glowed with a fiery anger and she stormed towards her niece and nephew's room. She banged the door open, making them jump and halting their conversation abruptly.

"What. Did. You. Do?" she hissed.

* * *

Edward leaned back in the velvet chair and sighed happily.

So things weren't going to plan, it didn't matter. All that mattered was he had solved the problem of the vampire, he'd be dispatched soon enough, but until then, he knew nothing, which was a plus.

He felt great, being so long without his powers had been torture, but he had done it for the great Glorificus.

He had been so very young when he had heard of her, a mere teen. He had known he wasn't good enough, so he followed the dark arts, falling deeper into them, casting a spell to become powerful and immortal. He had lost most of his soul in that casting, but he didn't really care. It had been done. He was known as the powerful and feared Jackal. And it was amazing. For over a century he waited, having found prophecies that told of her arrival on the Hellmouth. He had sought it out; tamed a flesh-eating demon to dispose to the nutcases she left once she had fed.

He was nothing if not a forward thinker.

Then he had found he couldn't go to Sunnydale to aid her in the search for the Key, but he got out there in time to raise her from the body of her human vessel. She had come alive in the morgue and she had smiled seductively at him before collapsing against him. He had poured all his power into her, and it made her strong, no where near as strong as she had been, but strong enough to travel to England with him while he infiltrated the Council.

Once there, he had carefully destroyed all writings on her. Despite the fact he was nothing more than a snivelling mortal again whose only attribute was his immortality, he was confident the Council wouldn't notice the texts were missing.

He had been fired for improper use of the Dark Arts - he now chuckled at their incredible stupidity. But he had told Buffy he was fired for becoming too involved in his cases; he felt it made her warm to him.

He had brought his Goddess to the place of her defeat a year and a half ago after he had blown up Hunter and his acolytes, and had been working with Buffy her and brats ever since.

As in England, he worshipped his Goddess every night, constructing elaborate ceremonies to exult her and feeding her only the finest of people. He liked to think he was more than just her minion, she certainly acted like he was and he knew she needed him, now more than ever. But when he had performed the ritual that would give her the power she had wielded in her dimension, he would rule their Hell at her side, humble beside her, but fearsome and merciless towards their subjects.

He couldn't wait.

All he needed was the correct alignment of the planets; the right moon…

And those bloody kids.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Nine**

Chrissy slipped out of bed and opened the door slowly, wary of waking her sleeping brother. Experience told her he wouldn't stir; he slept too deeply for that. He slept like the dead and now she knew who their father was, she understood where he got it from.

She went into the bathroom and dressed in the clothes she had brought from their room. Boots, sweater and jeans. She crept down the stairs and grabbed her keys, pausing to grab her coat from the closet. A hand grabbed her wrist and she turned slowly to glare at her brother.

"Go away," she hissed.

"Where you going?" he asked.

"Out."

"On your own? I'll come with."

"If I wanted company, I'd have woke you up. Go back to bed."

"No, I'm not letting you out on your own."

"Todd," she sighed. "I just want to get out. Go back to bed, please. I'm gonna kill me something."

"You're pissed about Aunt Dawn and Mom yelling at you about making Spike leave, aren't you?"

"No, I'm pissed because they don't get why I wasn't totally chipper about him turning up in the first place. Are you gonna wake Mom up?"

Todd studied his sister, her determined stance and the crossbow she had picked up from the table by the door.

"No," he answered. "As long as you're back in an hour."

"Thanks, Todd," she grabbed a coat from the closet and shrugged it on. She met his eyes sheepishly. "You think I really upset him?"

"You practically accused him behind his back of killing Ed, who isn't exactly _your_ favourite person. I'm guessing he'll get over it in a couple of decades."

"Very funny," she huffed. "But I'm serious… You think he'll come back?"

"Yeah, I think he will. But if he does, Chris, you need to go easy, ok?"

"Ok."

He smiled grimly and pushed her shoulder.

"Get going," he said. "Don't take any risks."

"I never do."

"Liar."

She smiled as he went back upstairs and slipped out of the house. She was halfway down the street before she realised the jacket she wore wasn't hers; it was the short leather jacket her father had been wearing when he first arrived.

* * *

Spike stood at the foot of the grave and stared down at the base of the headstone where someone had place a small bouquet of flowers. He guessed they were from Dawn, her handwriting was on the note pushed amongst the flower heads, _"Wish you could be there."_

He sighed and wondered what had made him come here. It had taken a while to find it, the cemetery that had been his garden for over two years had acquired a few more inhabitants over the years. But he had found it in the end and by the immaculate look of it, Red hadn't found the strength to let go just yet.

He read the epitaph below her name, _"Forever in our hearts and forever blessed be."_

He lit a cigarette and gazed down at the earth that filled the grave of Tara Maclay. He had gotton to know to shy Wiccan better over the summer when Buffy had been dead and had liked what he saw. At the time, he had been too blinded by grief to notice her. The first real memory he had of her was not of his punching her in the face, it was of her coming to his crypt two weeks after Buffy's death.

The door of the crypt creaked open, a shaft of sunlight narrowly avoiding the pale hand that hung lifelessly over the arm of the only chair, a bottle dangling from listless fingers. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol was overpowering, but she had come for a reason and she wasn't leaving.

She didn't say a word as she came towards him and cleared the empty whisky and wine bottles and cans of lager. She dropped them into a large bag she had brought with her, anticipating what she would find. She removed the bottle from his fingers and tugged the packet of cigarettes from his other hand. He didn't argue then and couldn't find the strength to protest when she poured the last couple of inches of whisky onto the grass outside his crypt. He had plenty in the refrigerator.

She still didn't speak when she went to the refrigerator and removed the bottles and cans and stood in the door of his crypt, pouring every drop of liquor outside to create a soggy lake to greet visitors. He didn't move from the chair when she stood in front of him, frowning in concern.

"Is there any more?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Spike?" she asked a little more forcefully.

"No," he answered flatly.

She nodded and removed five blood bags from her shoulder bag. She crouched before him and held the first cool bag between her hands to warm it. Then she handed it to him, pressing it into his numb hands. She stared at him until he sighed and slipped into game face and sank his teeth into the bag.

They sat like that for a while. She warmed the bags between her hands while he drank, then handed it to him to drink. When he had finished the fifth bag, she removed three more and put them in the refrigerator.

"Better?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I know," she answered. "But you must feel better than when you were living on alcohol?"

He smiled weakly and nodded. "Thanks, pet."

"Tonight, seven o'clock," she replied, standing up and picking up her bag.

"What?"

"You have to baby-sit Dawn tonight. Be at her house at seven. I don't think Buffy would be happy if she knew you were neglecting her sister to drink yourself into oblivion, do you?"

She left, closing the door as quietly as possible.

That night, he arrived promptly at seven. The healing began that night, thanks to Tara.

He stared blankly at the grave. To think such a nice person ended up here, under six foot of dirt. He cleared his throat and addressed the point at the base of the headstone.

"Remember me, Tara?" he asked. "Spike, the one who punched you and the one you nicked all that booze from. That's me. I didn't know 'til a coupla days ago what happened to you. You didn't deserve that, love, anyone but you.

"Look, I know I didn't talk to you all that much, I know I didn't go out of my way to get to know you, but I did know you were decent. I admired the way you were strong. For all of them, Red, Harris, explaining things the Anya the others couldn't bear too. I heard you watched the shop for the first couple of days after. And the way you looked after Dawn… you were made for it. Out of all of them, I respected you the most, wish I'd told you.

"I guess you know about me having kids, huh? And the whole me having a soul, right? I wish you'd been here. I think they would have liked you, you'd have been a great help to Buffy. Wish you were here now; think you might have been able to help me.

"She hates me, Tara. My own daughter hates me. Todd, my son, he doesn't seem to, but she does and I don't have a bloody clue how to make it right," he stubbed the cigarette out beneath his foot after taking a long drag. He thrust his hands into his pocket and hunched his shoulders; "maybe I should've stayed away? Ignored Lydia. I'm glad I didn't 'cause they're amazing. Something to be proud of, they can't take after me one bit," he looked at Dawn's bunch of flowers. "Guess she's talking about her wedding to this Josh fella, eh? You think he's good enough for her? He'd better be. She deserves it," he glared at the grave. "And even though I didn't know you all that well, I know you didn't deserve this."

That's when he heard the scream. He cast an apologetic smile at the immaculate gravestone, "Gotta go, pet," and raced in the direction of a scream that seemed somehow familiar.

* * *

Chrissy faced the demon with a grim smile and gripped her crossbow a little tighter, hoping it couldn't read her mind and see how desperately she wished she had her axe or her brother's sword.

"Child of the prophecy," it rumbled, pointing a long nailed finger at her. "I have come for you. From your ashes, she shall arise."

That didn't sound too good to Chrissy, but she merely smiled and shrugged.

"Heard of me, have you?" she asked. "Then you'll know I'm pretty handy with this," she lifted the crossbow and aimed quickly. The bolt sped toward the demon and hit him in the chest. He stood stunned for a minute, then dragged it from his body.

Uh oh,

Chrissy thought. She pulled a stake from her pocket and held it firmly as the demon charged.

She had fought a demon like this before and yeah, it had been strong, but not this strong. She struggled in it's grip as it grabbed her shoulders. Its hand moved up to her throat and the other hand tugged the stake from her hand and crushed it in a simple clenching movement of his fingers. Her eyes widened in dismay and as his grip on her throat tightened, she screamed.

She had never screamed in battle, but suddenly, it seemed like the only thing she could do.

Spike skidded to a halt in time to see the demon lift the girl off her feet and shake her, her legs kicking like a rag doll. He knew this demon, it looked… strong? These weren't strong, they were average strength, what the - _Chrissy, _he thought and ran forward, dragging a dagger from the back of his pants.

He launched a punch at the demon's face and it roared in annoyance. Taking advantage of the demon's momentary distraction, he pulled Chrissy sharply from the demon's grasp. He kicked the demon in the groin and placed Chrissy gently on the ground. He lifted her head with a finger under her chin.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Move!" she yelled and grabbed his shoulders, rolling him to the side.

He rolled onto his back and kicked out, catching the demon's chin. It stepped back and Spike jumped up. The demon lashed out with a long arm and Spike flew backward into a tree trunk with a loud "oof!" Chrissy looked at Spike in horror and at the demon that now grinned horribly at her.

"Oh, crap, " she muttered and grabbed her crossbow from the ground, whacking the demon around the head with it.

Spike looked up and shook his head to focus to see Chrissy battering the demon around the head with her crossbow.

"Never," she panted, bringing the crossbow up to uppercut the demon. "Touch. My. Father. Again," she brought her boot up in a high kick and slammed it into the demon's chest, channelling her anger and making the demon stumble.

Spike allowed himself a brief grin before scrambling up and twirling the dagger before burying it deeply in its back. It gasped and grunted as it fell. Chrissy stared down at it panting, a small smile on her face. She looked up and met Spike's eyes, a similar smirk on his face. She looked away and studied the damage done to her crossbow; Spike sniffed and cleared his throat.

"You could've been killed," he said in a firm, fatherly tone.

"You too," she answered defiantly, then her face softened. "You gonna tell Mom and Aunt Dawn?"

Spike looked down at the demon and then up at her. He shook his head slowly.

"Don't you do anything like that again, you hear?" he asked.

"I won't," she looked down. "I was… angry. Aunt Dawn yelled at me after you left."

"Sorry 'bout that."

She shrugged. "My fault," she looked at the demon. "We gonna hide this thing or what?"

She leaned down and lifted the legs. Spike yanked his dagger free and lifted the upper torso. They carried it to a clump of bushes and threw it in, arranging the branches carefully in silence. They looked at each other again.

"Look," she sighed. "What I said this morning, at home… I didn't mean it. I can be a bitch sometimes."

"Don't say that," he replied sharply.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"For what?"

"Saving my life; promising not to drop me in it; and not yelling like Ed or Mom might do."

The mention of Ed niggled something in Spike's mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"It's a dad's duty."

"You gonna stick around, then?"

"If you and Todd want me too."

"Well, if you don't, Todd, mom, Aunt Dawn, Aunt Willow and hell, maybe even Uncle Xander'll be all over the yelling!" she noted Spike's crestfallen expression and smiled gently. "I was joking. I'd like it if you stayed."

"Thanks, pet."

"You coming back then… Dad?"

Spike grinned widely and she found it hard not to smile back at this beaming man who looked at her so lovingly.

"Yeah. You haven't seen me and act real surprised when you see me on the couch in the morning."

"Ok," Chrissy answered.

"Off we go, then," he said cheerfully and hesitated before swinging an arm around her shoulders and guiding her home.

She smiled and snuggled sleepily against the warm leather of his duster. He held her tighter and sighed happily.

Edward Thorpe tore his gaze away from the mirror on the wall and looked apologetically at Glory. She glared at him, then opened her mouth on a scream of frustration as she tugged at her hair.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Ten**

Buffy stared at the scene on her couch.

Chrissy was snuggled against Spike, her legs drawn up onto the couch beside her. Spike's head was titled back, his eyes closed peacefully. Todd was on Spike's other side and his head cushioned on the arm of the couch. The TV blared and Buffy guessed what had happened. She turned the TV off and twitched the curtains more tightly closed and smiled to herself as she walked into the kitchen. She briefly wondered why Edward hadn't called and when he would be back, but her mind was too full of the events of the last few days.

She always knew he would come back, even when he left the previous morning she knew he'd come back. She just never expected Chrissy to be snuggled up with him on the couch.

It was something she had often imagined. She and Spike holding the baby twins with Dawn skirting them cheerfully.

Buffy and Spike with the two-year-old twins at Dawn's after Graduation party.

Spike and Buffy getting their children ready for their first day at school….

It was all a blur of memories that weren't and wishes that they had been.

That had been her life for so long. She always knew she wanted him to come home. She remembered times when Chrissy was being particularly stubborn or Todd was asking questions she had no answers to. Then she would press her hand to her forehead, close her eyes and mutter his name, as if he would magically appear to set things right. He would roll his eyes at Chrissy's pout and use that strange charm of his to persuade her to put her shoes on or brush her hair. Then he would sit his son down and talk to him seriously, answer each question as best he could.

And when the twins and Dawn were safely tucked up in bed, he would take her hand, pull her out of the kitchen - where she always imagined she would be - and guide her to the couch. There they would snuggle and murmur soft words to each other. There would be no fights, no sex. No more sex, but the lovemaking would come later and they would no longer live in the shadow of the violent, unfeeling experiences of the past. And the only thing in those early hours would be them, the two of them, the couple, the parents.

"Penny for 'em."

She started and the mug she had absent-mindedly pulled from the cupboard dropped to the floor, shattering. She turned slowly and looked at the man who spoke. He fidgeted uncomfortably and the look on her face made his chest constrict.

_"Let it go… Let yourself love me…"_

_"Stop it… please… stop…"_

"Buffy," he started. "I didn't mean…" he suddenly realised his words echoed those uttered on the last night he saw her, sixteen years ago.

"Spike," she croaked. "I didn't hear you…"

"I, uh…" his voice tailed off and he came forward slowly to crouch at her feet and pick up the pieces of the shattered mug.

She wondered why she had looked at him so strangely. She had forgiven him a long time ago for what had happened between them; she had forgiven him when she admitted she wanted him around. She understood his discomfort and crouched in front of him. Her hands covered his and he stopped and sighed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Sssh," she answered. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters… not now."

"I - I didn't mean… I never meant…"

"Spike," she snapped. "Stop it. Be the Spike I knew."

He looked up at her.

"The Spike you knew hurt you," he answered quietly.

"Not the Spike I knew before I died. That Spike tried to save my sister and looked after her all summer because of a promise he had made to a dead woman. I liked that Spike. That Spike was… Spike."

He looked away and shook his head. Losing patience, she grabbed his chin and pulled it around to face her.

"Don't you get it?" she asked. "What I'm trying to say is I _loved_ that Spike!" His eyes widened and his lips twisted into a small smile as she continued. "And when I came back, I loved you. I didn't love what we did to each other. I lost all that love. Then when you left, I imagined how it could have been if I hadn't been so wrapped up in my friends' opinions and if I hadn't kept denying it. In some ways, it was my fault, in some ways it was your fault, but it was always _our_ fault. All this time you've been gone, I loved you and now you're here, I don't want you to leave, I want my kids to have a family."

"I -" he didn't get to finish because she had pressed her lips to his in a strong, but tender kiss.

"See," Chrissy remarked to her brother as they watched through their fingers from the doorway. "This is why I reckon the sooner we move out, the better."

* * *

"And that's what happened?" Todd asked.

"Uh huh," Buffy said, squeezing Spike's hand.

As one, Buffy, Spike, Dawn and Todd turned to look at a scowling Chrissy. Spike and Buffy had just related what had happened between them. They had decided that the twins deserved to know what happened. They had left out the attempted rape and had watered down the rest, but it was all there. Willow and Xander had been sworn into the agreement and even Xander agreed not to blab about the incident in the bathroom.

"Chrissy?" Dawn asked. "What's wrong?"

"How could you?" Chrissy asked. "How _could_ you?"

"How could we what?" Buffy asked warily.

"Not 'we,' Mom, _you. _How could _you_?"

"Chrissy, what the hell are you talking about?" Todd demanded.

"How could you make out that Angel was the big love of your life when it's soooo obvious that Dad is? I mean, sure you hurt each other, but you always hurt the one you love, you told me that."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and looked at a shocked Spike.

"You told her that?" he asked.

"I passed the message along," she answered with a warm smile that made Dawn, Todd and Chrissy roll their eyes.

"But that's the way they were," Dawn added. "Now they're… what _are _you?"

Buffy looked at Spike and he smiled and kissed her cheek.

"Parents," he said proudly.

"Oh, great," Chrissy muttered.

"Double the authority," Todd added. "Twice as much yelling. Twice as much grounding."

"You two are obsessed with grounding!" Spike said good-naturedly.

"That's 'cause they're a couple of trouble-makers," Buffy teased.

Chrissy threw a cushion at her and a pillow fight ensued. The bell rang and Dawn gave an excited squeal and ran to answer it. Spike watched as everyone ran after them to the door, he watched from the floor as two people entered the house, hidden by hugs.

"Spike."

Spike stared up at Anya who was frowning down at him.

"Anya," he said, glad he couldn't blush. "How are you?"

"Totally over the sex thing. And you? Nice soul, by the way."

"Uh, thanks. And over it too."

"Spike," Dawn said, dragging the dark haired, laughing man forward. "This is Josh."

"Hi," he said. "I've heard so much about you."

"Wish I could say the same," Spike answered, standing to shake his hand.

"I just hope you don't beat me into a bloody pulp," Josh laughed uncomfortably.

"He doesn't do that anymore, Josh," Chrissy said.

* * *

"What are they doing here?" Spike hissed as he handed Buffy a plate.

"Where have you been, Spike?" she asked. "Hello, wedding, ring any bells?"

"And she invited Anya?"

"They're roomies."

"Oh, yeah, I remember she told me."

Buffy glanced at him and wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans.

She understood his discomfort. She wasn't entirely comfortable with the _''us''_ thing either. She didn't even know how it had happened. All she could remember was knowing she missed him more than she had ever missed anyone, wanting to have the confidant, smirking Spike back and wanting to feel his lips again.

Next thing she knew, she was living her dream. She didn't know when she made the decision to approach him, although she hadn't yet said, "I love you," she had said she had loved him. Things were progressing nicely, family unit with kids and loving parents. Parents who not only loved their children, but each other too. She admitted she loved him, that he loved her. Now she slipped her arms around his waist, aware he was startled by this unfamiliar gesture of affection.

"You're coming?" she asked.

"To the wedding? If I'm invited."

"Of course you are. It's in a couple of weeks and Giles'll be here in two days."

He kissed her nose and she giggled, hearing the groans from the living room concerning their behaviour.

Buffy Summers was truly happy.

She was in the arms of the man she loved; there was no big bad to mar the preparation for the wedding; her children were well and liked their dad; her surrogate father was coming to visit.

And finally she had a date who would appreciate how damned sexy she looked in the dress she had picked for the wedding.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Eleven  
**

"Plans, plans, plans," Glory pouted. "What about me? You never think about me! Minions!"

Edward opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it closed when two minions scuttled in. Glory sat down on the elaborate stool before her vanity table and tossed her hair. The minions hesitated, awaiting their order.

"Brush her hair, you fools!" Edward shouted and they jumped, scrambling for the brush.

Glory rolled her eyes. She never thought she'd long for the bumpy minions she had when she first arrived in Sunnydale, but she did now. Edward obviously hadn't gone out of his way to secure the best servants for her. The minions she had now were disgustingly scabby and hadn't yet got the hang of adoring her.

"Be gone!" she sighed and waved her hand towards the door.

The taller of the silent minions walked away, leaving the brush tangled in her hair. The smaller minion followed the elder and disappeared into the far room that Glory would never think of entering.

Edward smiled and came forward, prying the brush from her hair and gently combing it.

"You know the plans are necessary, my Queen," he murmured.

"But when do I get to have some fun?"

"Fun?" Edward frowned. Was the planning not fun enough? He was having fun, planning torture, death and mayhem was splendid.

"I want the vampire," she stated. "I want to break him. I want to make him scream for mercy. I want him to bow before me. I want him to die."

"And he shall, darling one, " Edward assured her, setting the brush down and rubbing her shoulders gently. "He will. Soon, very soon."

"Now," she ordered. "Bring him to me _now_!"

Edward was torn between sticking to the plan and doing as his Goddess ordered. In the end, his loyalty to his Queen won out and he nodded.

"Yes, Glory, you shall have Spike."

"Good boy," Glory smiled at him in the mirror, her hand reached up and stroked his hair. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Her fingers tightened their grip painfully and the Jackal moaned as he buried his face in her neck.

* * *

"Plans, plans, plans," Todd moaned. "It's just a wedding, not a war."

"Just a wedding?" Chrissy asked. "God! You're so…. _male_."

"Uh, yeah?" Todd answered and shook his head as he slipped out of the living room and into the kitchen.

"They still working out the flowers?" Spike asked.

"Yeah. It's just a wedding, what's the big deal?"

"A wedding, Todd," Spike began sagely. "Is a dream for every girl -"

"Not Aunt Willow," Todd pointed out. "Since she's gay."

"But I'll betcha she _wanted_ the white meringue wedding. It's a woman thing; I gave up figuring it out years ago. Woman are a mystery, my boy, an absolute bloody mystery."

"I know what you mean," Todd sighed. "Can I tell you something?"

"Course you can," Spike replied.

"And you won't tell Mom or Chrissy?"

"No."

"Or Aunt Dawn or Aunt Willow?"

"Cross my heart and hope to dust. Now spit it out!"

"Well, I was gonna ask Uncle Xander's advice, but I figured since you're like, a hundred and something, you'd have a lot of experience with women, right?"

"Tons," Spike answered.

"Ok. So, there's this girl. Her name's Alison and she's really nice and pretty and smart -"

"And you fancy the pants off her?"

Todd blushed and bowed his head. Spike cursed himself for being so insensitive. He knew what it was like to have people make fun of your feelings and he'd noticed that his son was a healthy mixture of both his William side and his Spike side.

"You like her?" Spike asked, a little more tactfully.

"Yeah."

"So what's the problem. You're a good-looking lad. A decent, up standing member of society. What more could she ask for?"

"Popularity?"

"Eh?"

"She's the most popular girl in school. Chris and I kinda aren't. We've got friends, but we've been 'freaks' since we were fifteen."

So they were treading the Buffy path, were they? As far as Spike knew, Buffy hadn't exactly been little miss popularity when she was in high school. Willow and Xander hadn't been either. Spike cast his mind around desperately for something to reassure his son with. He knew if he could only get this right, then his son might come to him for advice again.

"Well, uh," Spike began, then his memory struck gold. "Harris and the Cheerleader!"

"Huh?"

"Xander got it on with that Cordelia bird in high school. He was King Twat and she was Miss Thang. They got together."

"Yeah, then he kissed Aunt Willow and Cordy fell through the floorboards, got impaled and nearly died."

"Oh, you've heard the story?"

"Cordy told me and Chris couple of years ago when we went to LA. I don't really think that's the best example of the greatest love story ever told. It's more like a shining example of what not to do."

"That's not the point. You can't really expect Xander Harris to have half a brain and not kiss someone _other_ than his girlfriend, can you? The point is that a complete idiot like Xander Harris actually _got_ the girl to begin with."

"Ok, I get that. But where's the advice?"

"The advice is that you be yourself and don't chain her up and threaten her with death by insane vamp. You're nowhere near as goofy as the whelp so give it time, I'll wager that Alison'll be all over you in no time."

"Seriously?" Todd asked. "Cool. Thanks, Dad."

He got up and went back into the living room, deftly avoiding the girls that were spread over the floor deciding on the floral arrangements.

"Was that any good?" Spike asked. "You heard, right?"

Josh removed the thick gloves he had donned to clip the rose bush in the garden. He ran his fingers through his thick brown hair, as he closed the door that led into the garden, and lifted his hand in a brief wave at Dawn.

"You did good," he said.

"You're not just saying that?"

"No. Hell, I wish you'd been there to give me some advice. You know it took me three weeks of taking Dawn to the cinema and dinner before I actually asked her on an official date?"

"You got her in the end," Spike shrugged. "And you know I'll pluck your eyes out if you so much as look at another woman."

Josh laughed good-naturedly and shook his head.

"Yeah, I know."

Spike sighed. He knew the chip had been deactivated and he still wasn't scared? What did it take?

* * *

Buffy smiled at herself in the mirror as she smoothed her nightdress.

She'd had it years. Fifteen years, in fact. The thought terrified her. She had bought it as a treat for herself, something to remind her she wasn't just a mom and a half-demon Slayer, but she was a woman too.

She'd pulled it on once when she got it home and found herself blushing at the absurdity of it. Why would anyone wear something this sexy when they had no one to be sexy for? Instead, she slipped into her comfy teddy bear pyjamas, hiding the black satin night-dress at the bottom of her nightwear drawer. She'd been ashamed to see that everything in her drawer was mom-sy. She was barely twenty-two!

She had kept the nightdress in the event of a new romance. There hadn't been one. Oh, there had been dates, various charming men who didn't mind that she was a single mother, who ran a magic shop and had to run off at all times of night.

None of them had been worthy of The Nightdress.

She ran her hand nervously over her shoulder length hair and allowed the wide smile of anticipation to spread over her face.

Spike was worthy.

* * *

She awoke early the next morning. She usually jumped out of bed as soon as she awoke, but not today. For one thing, she could hear that Anya was up. The squeaking of the left-hand faucet in the bathroom told her so. For another, the children weren't home, they'd gone to stay at friends, so there was no immediate urge to get up and make sure they ate a decent breakfast.

And she was tired. Though she wasn't surprised. She'd been awake half the night with Spike. She could do with another hour or two of sleep.

The biggest reason was Spike.

Spike's chest that was the most comfortable pillow.

Spike's arms that, despite their cool temperature, kept her warm throughout the night.

Spike's lips that peppered kisses over her hair and shoulders.

And Spike's sleepy mumble of "I love you" when she squirmed against him.

She waited for it. For the arms to ease around her, for the gentle yawn, for the kisses, for the words.

None came.

She smiled gently and strained her ears for sounds other than Anya.

Surely, he'd be doing something hopelessly romantic like making her breakfast in bed? She heard Anya exit the bathroom and tiptoe downstairs. She waited for the sound of a pan being dropped, for Spike's cries of frustration when the toast burnt. Her dreams were never perfect. He would always do something endearingly wrong. He would offer her burnt toast, telling her he ran out of bread. He'd bring her lukewarm coffee because he made it too early. That was how it always was.

She still couldn't hear him and worry began to bloom in her gut, but the fatigue she felt smothered it slightly. She rolled over and stretched slowly in an effort to wake herself up more. She wouldn't do anything, she told herself as she yawned. It would be just her luck to charge downstairs and find that he'd been pouring the coffee or cereal.

She opened her eyes slowly and froze with her back slightly arched in mid stretch and her arms pressed into the pillows.

She had closed the window last night.

It was open now.

The sun streaming through the open window, cutting across her bed told her that he hadn't opened it.

And suddenly the fatigue she felt didn't seem entirely natural.

* * *

Glory clapped her hands delightedly as Edward pushed the slightly smoking vampire at her feet.

His only clothing was the black pants Edward had retrieved from the floor of the Slayer's bedroom and ordered the minion to clothe him in. The vampire's arms were twisted painfully behind his back, the skin raw where the rough ropes rubbed. A large bruise ruined the milky perfection of his smooth skin over his ribs. Edward smirked at Glory and lifted his foot, placing on the vampire's spine to pin him in place, looking like a hunter standing over a lion.

The operation really had been too simple. Apart from the fact the Slayer and her lover didn't fall asleep until barely fifteen minutes before dawn, it had gone superbly.

Edward had slipped inside and placed the chlorophyll soaked cloth over the Slayer's mouth when she stirred slightly. The vampire had awakened and punched him in the jaw, but with a simple spell, Edward knocked him out and dragged him out through the window, pausing only to grab the pants. He had tossed him into the car and raced across town to present this latest offering to his Goddess.

Bending forward, Edward twisted slim fingers into the vampire's bleached blonde hair and yanked his head up.

With a self-satisfied click of his fingers, Ed woke Spike up. The memory of just who Edward Thorpe really was reappeared in Spike's mind and, with a roar and game face twisted in fury, he struggled to sit up and throw the Jackal from his back.

"Ah, ah, ah. Calm down, Spike," Edward said mockingly, bringing his face to Spike's. "You remember me, do you?"

"Yeah, you bastard," Spike hissed. "Let me go. Fight me like the man you aren't."

"And the man you aren't," Edward answered. "You think I'm scary, Spike? Well, you seem to have a long memory, let's see is you remember my beautiful Goddess."

He twisted Spike's head around to face Glory who stood with one hand on her hip, the other twisting a lock of hair seductively, her lips twisted in a victorious smirk.

"The impure vampire," she bent down and grabbed his chin. She forced him to look at her. The game face slid away and his eyes widened as he realised that this was no mirage. "We meet again. Wonder if you've fancied up over the last seventeen or so years, precious."

Spike opened his mouth to talk, but her still substantial strength threw him across the room when she slapped him across the face.

"We're gonna find out," she told him sweetly. "Edward?"

Edward nodded and whipped the red cloth from the tray of torture devices with a magician's flourish.

"Have a nice time," Edward said, as he lifted Spike up onto the familiar hook in the middle of the room. "I do hope Buffy's all right."

"No!" Spike shouted, twisting in the ropes. "Stay away from them! You bastard!"

"Sssh, now," Glory whispered as Edward left the room laughing. "Hush."

He didn't hush.

Instead, he screamed in agony as her hand entered his stomach.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Twelve  
**

"Anya," Buffy called weakly, stumbling into the kitchen.

"Morning, Buffy," Anya said pleasantly. "You'll never guess who got an early flight -" she paused, noticing Buffy gripping the counter, her knees seemingly unable to hold her up. "Are you ok?"

"No," Buffy answered. "I was drugged… Spike's gone… Anya…"

Anya grabbed her shoulders and lowered her to the floor as Buffy passed out again, under the effect of the drug. She glanced up at the older man who had entered the kitchen upon Buffy's arrival.

"It would seem I arrived in the midst of… something?" he frowned at Anya. "Why is she wearing lace - no, don't tell me."

"She was boinking Spike," Anya informed him helpfully. "He's back - with a soul - and Todd and Chrissy know all about him. Now he's missing and Buffy's stoned."

"I think _'stoned'_ is a little strong, Anya," Giles said, smiling fondly at her. "Where there signs of a break - Anya?"

"Vengeance," she said suddenly. "Really strong. Someone was after Spike for vengeance."

"Oh," Giles said, lifting Buffy and carrying her into the living room. "Well, this is just… splendid."

"Splendid?" Anya echoed. "Giles, I said vengeance, on Spike. Spike who is boinking Buffy! This is in no way splendid!"

"I was using sarcasm, Anya."

"Woah. Grandpa Giles with sarcasm and no tweed. What's that ab - Mom?" Chrissy pushed past Giles and bent over her mother who was resting on the couch. Her body was glowing slightly and things were rattling on shelves.

"Grandpa Giles? You're here, I thought you weren't - what's going on?"

"Todd," Giles began. "It seems your mother has been drugged."

Todd grabbed a photo before it shuddered off the coffee table and frowned at Giles.

"Where's Dad?"

Giles paused.

"Uh, Dad?" he asked. "Oh. Spike. He's…."

"Missing," Anya stated. "Spike's missing."

"Missing!" Chrissy screeched.

"Missing," Buffy mumbled as she sat up, her hand pressed to her head. "Call Willow. She can do a locator spell. I've got to find him."

"Find who?" Dawn asked, her arm draped casually around Josh's waist. "Oh. Is something major going down?"

They turned and frowned at her.

"How'd you…?" Todd started.

"She's floating three feet in the air, Todd, dead give-away."

They looked back at Buffy who was indeed floating three foot in the air, glowing all over.

"Oh."

* * *

"Missing?" Xander stated for the fifteenth time, his eyebrows raised in doubt. "You sure he didn't just take off? You know, like he did sixteen years ago?"

"No," Chrissy told him coldly. "He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't leave Mom."

Xander opened his mouth, but it snapped shut and he glared at Buffy.

"Hey! No glowy powers to be used on friends, we agreed, remember?"

"Xander," Buffy warned.

Willow rolled her eyes and Buffy turned back to her, her own version of "resolve face" firmly in place.

"Just put your hands there," Willow explained. "And concentrate."

Buffy nodded and placed her hands on Spike's black shirt which they had retrieved from her bedroom floor.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing all her energy on Spike and where he was. She heard the low gasp she assumed came from Josh when she felt her body warm as it glowed and she left the ground. Keeping her eyes firmly closed; she concentrated on Spike, where he was, wanting to find him.

When she landed back on the carpet again, she kept her eyes closed and her fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt. It was only when Willow tapped her gently and pulled the shirt away that Buffy finally opened her eyes. She stayed on the floor, lifting her arms when Chrissy and Todd came to sit next to her. She smiled lightly when she saw Josh nursing sore ribs he received from Anya's elbow when he gasped.

She waited expectantly, watching with a slight frown as Giles and Xander flanked Willow and stared at the map created on the shirt.

"What's wrong?" Chrissy asked.

"Aunt Willow?" Todd asked hesitantly. "Uncle Xander? _Grandpa Giles?_"

"You know the place," Buffy stated. "Where is it?"

"Uh, Buffy," Giles started. "Maybe you should sit - well, tell the children to leave, perhaps?"

"Children?" Chrissy repeated, sharing a look with Todd.

"We haven't been '_children'_ since we were ten, Grandpa Giles," Todd told him.

"Well, I don't think you should be around for - Buffy!" Buffy had jumped up and crossed the room, wrenching the shirt from his hands and studying it.

"No," she muttered. "No," she looked up at her friends. "But just because it's _there_, doesn't mean it's _her_ though, does it?"

"I…" Giles tailed off. "I really don't know."

"Who?" Dawn demanded. "_Who?_"

When her sister turned to look at her, Dawn recognised the expression on her face as the one she wore when she jumped into the portal. Dawn shook her head and grabbed Josh's sleeve.

"It can't be her!" she screeched. "She can't be back! She can't have _Spike!_"

"Who?" Chrissy asked. "Who can't have Dad?"

"Mom!" Todd cried.

Buffy turned to face her children, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Suddenly, the twins saw why the Scooby Gang had been so successful in their battles against evil.

Their mother stood in the middle, arms folded, face grim but a determined look glinted in her eyes. A look only a pissed Slayer had.

She was flanked by her best friends, Willow and Xander, also grim, but determined.

Giles stood behind her and they could see from his face that he was weighing up the how's and why's of the situation.

Anya's fists were clenched, but she was smiling weakly at the twins, trying to reassure them slightly.

Their Aunt Dawn's expression was one of abject horror, but there was fierceness in it that echoed Buffy's expression and reminded the twins she had trained as a Slayer.

Josh stood to one side, watching as Buffy opened her mouth to explain.

_Explain what?_ she asked herself. _How do you explain to your children that a Hell Goddess, that was supposed to be long gone seems to be back and has their father?_

Buffy didn't know. She didn't have words. She only had one.

"Glory," she said flatly.

* * *

"Had enough, sugar?" Glory asked, not looking at him as she slid a shoe onto her foot, studying how it looked before discarding it and looking up. "You know, I could make it go away."

"Screw… you," he sputtered, glaring at her, squinting slightly as blood dripped into his left eye.

"Oooo! I thought I'd knocked that rudeness out of you. Guess I'll have to hit you harder."

She stood and moved towards him with that incredible speed that had stunned him the first time he had seen it. He had heard her and the Jackal talking and apparently, she was weaker and slower.

Spike couldn't really see the difference.

Her fist stopped inches from his face and she smiled. The fist uncurled and wiped the blood from his cheek.

"I could make it stop. All you gotta do is bring me your brats. Then it'll stop, precious."

"Why?" he asked. "You want… them… Why?"

"You don't need to know that," she told him. "Are you ready to give up yet?"

"No," he answered stubbornly.

"Ok," she shrugged and grabbed one of the long railroad spikes from the table. She ran her fingers over it and smirked at him before thrusting it into his stomach. "Just say uncle," she told him sweetly.

She gave the spike a vicious twist and his screams of agony filled the room once more.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Thirteen  
**

"Buffy," Giles started, following her as she retrieved weapons and magical equipment she had accumulated over the years and piled it on the couch. "Slow down."

"I don't have time to slow down, Giles," she sighed, grabbing an axe, frowning at it before returning it to the chest and removing a larger one.

"We should formulate a plan - "

"I have a plan," Buffy told him shortly.

"Oh, what is it? An attack at the weakest points or - "

"A full on attack where the main objective is getting Spike out."

"Buffy, that's ridiculous and highly dangerous. Why on earth would you do something like this?"

"Because this is Spike," she stopped moving and looked at him.

"Exactly," he pointed out. "This is Spike. Why would you do something this dangerous for _Spike?_"

"Because he loves me," she said quietly, bowing her head.

"That's hardly reason for you to put your life in danger and your friends' lives in danger."

"I love him," Buffy said, lifting her head and looking Giles in the eye. "I love him, Giles. Is that a good enough reason?"

"I - well uh…"

"And you know what?" Buffy asked, tears pooling in her eyes. "I never told him. I said I loved the old Spike, I never said I loved _him_. He got a _soul_ for me, Giles, a _soul,_" Giles stared at her, his mouth gaping at this revelation.

"How?"

"He went through something… He wanted to get it to be good enough," she suddenly realised she didn't know. Something so big and so important and she didn't know the details. All she cared to know was that he got a soul and got it for her. "If it's…" she gulped. "If Glory's got him, she'll hurt him, then she'll kill him. I have to save him. I have to save him so I can tell him I love him and I have to save him so I can say sorry."

"Sorry?" Giles questioned, then felt the light touch on his arm. Glancing down, he saw Willow, smiling gently at him. He felt a rush of relief. He had never understood the Buffy-Spike relationship and he had known there were aspects he had not been told about. He nodded at Willow and beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen where the others sat, awaiting instructions.

"You ok, Buffy?" Willow asked, pressing her friend into a chair and sitting on the floor in front of her.

"No, Will," Buffy shook her head. "I'm not."

"Wanna talk about it? Giles isn't here, so you can talk about… y'know, the stuff you didn't tell him."

"I want to say sorry," Buffy sniffed.

"For what?"

"For being so horrible. I was, y'know. Years ago when I knew he loved me and I used him - "

"I think you used each other, Buffy," Willow cut in kindly.

"No! See, he _loved_ me, he couldn't have made me _feel_ if he didn't. All these years I pretended it was him, it was all him. It was him that started it all; him that made it all so twisted."

"But all that doesn't matter now. It couldn't have worked then, however much you both tried, it wouldn't have worked. Now you can be together come what may. You're both so much more mature and ready for a properly committed relationship."

"It could have worked," Buffy said stubbornly. "But it wasn't Spike, Willow, it was _me_. I wanted to feel so badly that I didn't care about the person who could make me feel. I stopped it and… and that's when everything went so wrong. Looking back, I shouldn't have broke up with him, I should have told him we had to work things out. It could have been good, Will. God, it could have been so good."

"No, it couldn't, Buffy," Willow stated.

"Why not?"

"Because it was too soon. You had just got back, he hadn't really changed and the two of you just were too stubborn at that point. It never would have worked. Now though, you've got Chris and Todd, and they'll keep you together no matter what. You know it couldn't work then. You know why. It wasn't all your fault, Buffy. This is just guilt talking. Sure, some of what you're saying is true, but some of it isn't. When we get Spike back, Dawn and Josh can go out for a romantic evening; Anya, Xander, Giles and I can take Chris and Todd to the Bronze or something so you and Spike get some time to talk. Just talk Buffy. You need to talk about how you both feel, what you both want and go on from there. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Buffy said, standing up and clenching her fists. "You're right, Will. C'mon," she grabbed the sword from the couch and yelled for the others.


	14. Chapter 14

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Fourteen  
**

The door caved under her foot and fell with a loud crash. Her sword whirled and sliced the head from a demon that had stood by the door as a guard. She clasped the sword between her hands and Dawn stood by her side, her stance mimicking her sister's. Willow flanked Buffy's other side, a ball of glowing magic suspended above her palm. Buffy spared her only one glance, searching her eyes for the darkness that Buffy remembered from years ago. There was none, where black was, there was white and Buffy felt a rush of relief that her friend was running on good magick, not the bad she had fought for so long.

She heard the familiar laughter over the sound of the elevator doors opening and her blood chilled when Glory emerged. She turned, smiling widely at Buffy and lifted her arm higher, displaying Spike, her hand twisted in his hair.

"Hi, sugar," Glory smiled.

"Dad!" Chrissy screamed, lunging forward.

"Christina!" Giles shouted, grabbing the hood of her jacket and pulling her back.

Buffy glanced back, met Giles's eyes and checked that his hand was fisted tightly in Christina's jacket before she stepped forward, further into the lobby, her body language deliberately nonchalant.

"Glory, how you been?" her eyes flicked to Spike, then back to Glory.

"Good," Glory nodded. "Didn't you die?"

"Yeah. But I'm back now. You too, I see."

"Oh, yeah," Glory grinned. "Alive and kicking. Wanna see?"

"Love to," Buffy answered, squaring her shoulders.

Glory threw Spike to one side, his body hitting the wall with a thud, leaving numerous bloodstains. Glory ran forward, delivering a kick to Buffy's stomach. Buffy stumbled back, into the crowd of her friends. Her hands found Todd's, her sword was pressed into his hand, and the troll hammer filled hers. He gave a grateful smile and his strong muscles relaxed with the much lighter weapon in his hands.

"Hey, Glory," Buffy said, straightening up and walking back towards Glory. "Remember this?"

Glory's eyes bulged when she recognised the hammer, remembering how every blow sent massive quakes of pain through her body.

Grinning at the Goddess's discomfort, Buffy lunged, the hammer raining repeated blows on her head and upper body. With Glory under control, the rest of the group charged, racing toward the small army of demons that descended the stairs, alerted by the screams.

Anya and Josh scooped Spike up, Anya holding his shoulders and cradling his injured head to her chest while Josh held his feet.

The plan was to get him out, into Josh's car and back to Buffy's, where they should start patching him up. They skirted the outside of the fight, pausing shortly to allow Josh to glance at where Dawn stood, slashing furiously at three demons. Anya cast her eyes around and they rested upon Xander who was giving as good as he got in a one on one fight.

Willow stood in the centre of the fight, casting small balls of energy from the larger ball at the demons, knocking them out. Chrissy and Todd threw themselves furiously into the fight, seemingly after revenge for their father's treatment. Giles was looking particularly Ripper-ish as he stood by Dawn's side and attacked with ferocity.

Shaking herself out of her intense gaze, Anya cradled Spike's head gently and hissed at Josh to get moving. Josh pulled the blanket sharply from over his shoulder and tossed it over Spike's body, Anya tucked it securely over his head and arms. They carried him quickly out into the fading sunshine.

Spike groaned and his head lolled slightly, his eyelids straining against the swollen bruises and line of blood. His eyes were bloodshot, causing the blue to shine brighter against the red and the black bruises. Anya gasped and ran her hand gently over his hair, pulling it back off his forehead.

"Hey, ssshhh," she whispered, glancing up at Josh, who was staring in shock at Spike's injuries.

"Jack," he croaked through cracked lips.

"Oh no," Anya murmured as Josh helped her manoeuvre Spike into the back seat of his car. Anya got in after him and cushioned his head in her lap, pulling the black blanket from his face. "He thinks I'm a guy called Jack," she paused and looked incredulously at Josh. "He thinks I'm a _guy!_"

"Anya," Josh said, his voice a gentle warning to be quiet. "Spike? Who's Jack?"

"Jackal," Spike groaned. "Edward is… Jackal."

Anya shook her head vehemently and Josh tilted his head to the side in question.

"He wants the kids…. Chrissy and Todd… Stop him…. Buffy…"

"No," Anya said firmly. "Ed's in England, remember? And he's not the Jackal! He _can't _be the Jackal!"

"Anya," Josh said urgently. "Who's the Jackal?"

She fixed wide eyes on Josh, her voice low and terrified.

"It can't be him. The Jackal… He's an immortal human. He's pure evil. A murdering, evil human with the blackest soul ever possessed. That can't be _Ed._"

"Dawn," Josh muttered, and ran back into the apartment block, leaving Anya screaming his name.

* * *

Buffy was _seriously_ enjoying beating Glory to a bloody pulp.

The way she just seemed to cave in was the best fun Buffy had had in a long time. And the way she stopped talking after Buffy had whacked her in the mouth with the troll hammer, now _that_ was fantastic.

She looked up only once to see Anya and Josh carrying Spike's blanket clad body outside. She had seen the demons falling quickly beneath the swords and axes of her friends and she smiled when she saw the fiery concentration on her childrens' faces.

Glory was a lot weaker than when Buffy had last fought her. _And she's a hell of a lot weaker now,_ Buffy thought as she looked at the God's battered body.

Suddenly a heavy body hit her in the side, hands gripping her waist and propelling her into the far wall. Buffy moaned under the weight of the body and swung the hammer, dimly aware of metal connecting with shoulders and a back. Her back ached and she opened her eyes to stare blearily at her attacker.

But before she focused on that face, she saw Glory, in an all too familiar red dress, stagger to her feet, swaying, but with a grin on her face. Rage consumed Buffy and she thrust her hand out, slamming into the solid body that covered her. Shocked when her Slayer strength did not shift the person, she looked into the face.

Her stomach lurched when she recognised the face. The hair and eyes were darker, less messy and there was a cold edge that was so not -

"Ed?" she gasped. "But you're in England."

He grinned at her. "Is that what your boyfriend told you?"

Her eyes widened in horror and she went to lift the hammer, but he yanked it from her hand. He stood and glared at her, lifting the hammer ready to swing.

"Let's see how you like it, eh?" he asked.

She moved, her foot lashing out to kick his knee. But he dodged and pressed his heavy boot against her stomach, pinning her in place.

"Dawn! Buffy! Ed's the Jackal! Get out!"

Dimly she heard her soon-to-be brother-in-law's voice, but the words meant nothing.

Josh ran toward Dawn and repeated Anya's statement. Giles frowned, and then he pressed his hand to his mouth when the words _"The Jackal"_ hit home with terrifying familiarity. He recalled the horror stories of a man ruined over a century ago by a prophecy about a God. A man who went on to commit the most heinous crimes imaginable, crimes Angelus would probably not have thought up, but were conjured in minutes by the Jackal's twisted imagination.

"Buffy," Willow said, and cast her now normal eyes around, searching for Buffy.

They all stood, frozen solid, Chrissy's hand grabbing Todd's in her abject fear. Then Willow let out a strangled cry when she saw Buffy's foot protruding from around one of the walls. She, Chrissy, Todd and Dawn ran forward and watched in horror as Ed brought the hammer down towards Buffy, while Glory watched, laughing.

"Dia, armena!" Willow yelled, throwing her arms out, the bright energy emitting from her hands streaming in two directions, hitting Edward, then Glory. Her eyes were black this time, her magic powered by pure anger. "I've improved since last time," she hissed at Glory's prone form.

"Mom!" Todd yelled, crouching down to scoop his mother up. She pushed him back, just supporting herself on his shoulder, then on Chrissy's when she moved forward.

They helped her into the lobby, while Willow continued to blast Glory and Edward with the energy.

Giles pushed Dawn and Josh toward the door after her sister and niece and nephew. Then he looked over at Xander who was standing beside Willow, staring at her, ignoring the limp bodies before her. His hand grabbed her shoulder and gave a hard yank. The streams of energy stopped immediately, the black faded from her eyes and she stared at Glory and Ed for a while before collapsing against him and sobbing. He wrapped an arm around her and stoked her hair as he moved her to the door.

"Ssshh, Will, it's ok. You did what you had to do. You're ok, you're all right."

Giles followed them, throwing a glare at the lifeless bodies of their enemies before clicking the door shut behind him.

When the silence had fallen, Edward's eyes snapped open and he stood up shakily and shook his head.

"Nice try, Witch," he muttered, going to crouch by the body of his mistress. He scooped her up and picked his way over the dead bodies of his demon army. "But we're not as dead as you think."

* * *

Buffy fell to her knees beside the couch that his battered body laid upon and in a flash she was back to a time when he had only just admitted that he loved her. A time when the same bitch had tortured him for information about her sister. Ignoring her tears, she dipped the cloth into the basin of water on the coffee table and soaked away the dried blood from his forehead.

"Oh, Spike," she murmured. "Why do you always get yourself into these situations? Always getting yourself beat up. Always for me. The kids too. I know that."

She picked the needle and thread up from the coffee table and proceeded to sew up the gaping chest wounds. Her stitches were small, neat and precise. They were something she could concentrate on, apart from his pain and what he went through. She looked up once, saw his eyes flicker open, one side of his mouth quirk in a grateful smile before he tumbled back into a pain-induced sleep.

She leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on his forehead, causing him to let out a gentle, content sigh.

"I love you," she whispered.

* * *

"D'Hoffryn, what do you want?" Anya asked, hugging herself around the middle and sneering slightly at D'Hoffryn's lower level, wondering when she'd be allowed to go back to Buffy's.

"I want to talk, Anyanka," she opened her mouth to correct him, but then thought better of it.

"About what?" she asked warily, backing away slowly.

"About your work," his pleasant tone dropped and he glared at her, she cowered slightly. "It's below standard. In fact, it has been for the past sixteen years and I'm not willing to put up with it any longer. I thought you might pick up as you eased back into the role, but that's not been the case. That's not to say you don't deal vengeance, but you're hardly your old imaginative self and the only time you deal out, at best, average work, is in other countries. You live in New York, Anyanka, a place teeming with scorned women. And you're only seconds away from the Hellmouth."

"What about that time I had that man cast into a pit of snakes?" she protested.

"They were jelly snakes past their sell-by-date, Anyanka. Haven't you noticed that you aren't even part of the fold anymore? Even Halfrek has deserted you. If you were doing a good job, you would not be residing with a human. And now I hear you have passed on information about the Jackal to aid the humans! Now, you have a choice, Anyanka."

"What is it?"

"You can choose to carry on with your work as a vengeance demon. By that I mean that you leave your little home in New York and go back to the Anyanka I knew and loved, before that messy Sunnydale business…"

"Or?"

"Or you can give it up and go back to being a human. Now, do you choose the death and chaos the humans deserve, or the life and early death as one of the cattle?"

"I can't," she muttered, head bowed.

"Can't what, Anyanka?"

"Can't be how I used to," she lifted her head. "I know too much about human lives and feelings. I want to keep my friends, I care about them."

"In other words, you still love the boy."

"No! I didn't say that!"

"No matter," D'Hoffryn reached for the necklace around her neck and ripped it from her.

She grabbed for it, suddenly desperate not to lose her immortality, desperate not to go back to that life where she could die at any minute. She didn't want to be as vulnerable as she had been on her wedding day.

But it was too late, because he had smashed it into the wall in a flash of green light.

* * *

"Where are they?" Buffy asked, her body shaking as she stared at Giles and Dawn.

"We don't know, Buffy," Dawn whispered. "Everyone went home and the rest of us went to bed. When we woke up, I went to see them and their window was open. And Anya's missing too."

"They probably just went to patrol and then went for ice cream. And you know Anya, she's probably gone shopping," Giles suggested, but Buffy pushed past him and ran up the stairs.

She slipped quietly into their room, not wanting to disturb anything because Dawn and Giles must have been wrong. Her children couldn't be missing. It just wasn't happening.

But the beds were unmade, obviously slept in, but now empty. The window was wide open, the curtains flapping in the breeze. Buffy pressed her hand to her mouth, bile threatening to surge up her throat in a way that it hadn't since her mother's death. Her knees turned to jelly and she dropped onto Todd's bed, her head in her hands. She heard the door open and lifted her head. As she did so, a sharp white edge caught her eye and she grabbed at it, pulling a picture from under her son's pillow.

It was this that made her run to the bathroom and Dawn grabbed it and stared at it, before handing it silently to Giles.

It was a polaroid of Chrissy and Todd tied and gagged on one of the beds in their room.

It had been signed: _Your trusted Ed._


	15. Chapter 15

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Fifteen  
**

"Anya," Giles cried, grabbing hold of her as she appeared in a flash of green light in the middle of the kitchen. "My God, woman! Where have you been? We've been worried sick! And we've got enough to worry about without - Anya? Anya, what's wrong?"

"D'Hoffryn," she sobbed. "He changed me back because I told Josh about the Jackal. I had to choose."

"And you chose to be human?" he asked, his voice soft. He'd always had a soft spot for Anya; she was really quite endearing.

"No," she sniffed. "I chose you. I chose my friends. I wanted to stay, I wanted to be a Scooby."

"Oh, Anya," he sighed and hugged her.

"Worry about?" she said suddenly and pulled away from him. "You said you had enough to worry about. What's there to worry about? Spike's back and Willow killed Glory and Ed-" she stopped and stared at Giles. "She didn't, did she? They're not dead, are they?"

"No. No, I'm afraid they're not."

"Oh, God," she whispered and he grabbed her as her knees buckled and carefully helped her onto a chair. "I should have known."

"You've heard of the Jackal, haven't you, Anya? What can you tell me? I've heard the stories, but I -"

"I know him."

"Pardon?"

"I know him. I met him in France when I was cursing someone, he said he might call on me if he needed any creative torture. I didn't like him. He did call me though. I was in Russia at the time, about ten years before I came here. There were some people he wanted some info out of and he wanted my help."

"Did you help him?"

"What do you take me for? Of course I didn't. If I helped him then, I would have had to help him again and again. And the closer you are to him, the more danger you're in."

"I see," Giles nodded. "Don't worry, Anya. We'll stop him. I've called Wesley and he said he'll research the Jackal and get Angel to see what they're sources say."

"You'll have to do more than that."

"I don't doubt it. Now, come on, I think we should tell everyone you're home."

"And I'm human?"

"Do you want to tell them?"

"Yes."

"But what I don't get is how Ed could - Anya!" Xander leapt up from his seat and grabbed her away from Giles. She froze as his lips descended on her and kissed her fiercely.

"What the hell was that, Xander Harris?" she demanded, pulling away.

"I…" his voice tailed off and he blushed. "Sorry."

"I know you can kiss better than that," she answered and pulled him in for another kiss.

"Anya's back then," Dawn commented. "At least we don't have to worry about her anymore. Did she tell you where she was, Giles?"

Giles ignored the entwined couple before him - well, he always knew they'd get back together someday, he didn't expect it to take sixteen years, but they had all known they would. He looked down at Dawn, sitting beside Josh and Willow. Buffy and Spike were upstairs changing his bandages, leaving the others to speculate.

"D'Hoffryn took her down to his level."

"But there were no sulphur marks on the carpet."

Giles turned and smiled at Buffy who had numbly noted Anya's presence and the fact she was still locking lips with Xander while she and Spike descended the stairs.

"No, there weren't, Buffy. But he did, nonetheless. Once there he offered her a choice, to remain a Vengeance demon or become human."

"She chose human, didn't she?" Spike rasped.

"Yes, she did. D'Hoffryn stripped her of her Vengeance demon status because she told Josh about the Jackal. Now, I'm afraid, she won't be able to get any knowledge from the demon underworld and we'll have to wait for Wesley to get back to me before we have the information we need."

"Why?" Anya gasped and pulled away from Xander, pushing him into a chair to remove temptation. "Why do you need info?"

"The twins are gone, Anya," Willow said, "Ed's taken them."

She opened her mouth to reply when there was a knock at the door. Willow stood slowly to open it and for some reason avoided Spike and Buffy's eyes as she passed them. When Buffy had told Spike of the twins' disappearance a few hours ago, it had taken all Buffy's energy to stop him running off to rescue them. In broad sunshine. Now they both stood in stony silence, accepting - but not liking - the fact that to save their children, they had to wait.

They both hated waiting.

"Hello, Willow. I've found the information Giles wanted and Cordy had a vision. Neither contain good news."

Wesley stepped into the house and smiled politely at Buffy, his eyes resting briefly on Spike but he didn't say a word.

"Oh, right -" Willow started.

"Could I come in? It's sorta sunny out here."

Angel pushed inside and tossed a blanket off him, closely followed by Cordy who smoothed his smoking hair and Connor who rolled his eyes.

"Well, Buffy, I guess the cavalry's here," Willow said weakly.

* * *

They had all crowded into the living room. Spike and Buffy on the couch, holding hands. Anya and Xander sat next to them doing the same. Josh sat on the floor and leaned against the couch, Dawn curled against him. Connor was sprawled in a chair; Angel on another chair brought in from the kitchen with Cordy perched in his lap. Giles leaned against the wall with his eyes downcast as he listened to Wesley - and occasionally Anya, when she had something about the Jackal to share - impart their information.

"…1873 was the year Edward Lucas found the prophecy about Glory. He was," Wesley checked his notes quickly. "Nineteen at the time and over the course of five years, he fell into the black arts until, at the age of twenty-four, he performed a dark ritual that made him immortal.

"In the course of the ritual, he lost most of his soul and the rest was polluted by pure evil. He then went on to murder his family in a sacrifice to Glory," Wesley sighed, "you must remember that at this time, Glory was still in her own dimension. The prophecy stated that she would be banished to this dimension and imprisoned in a male boy. The prophecy also stated that no man would be able to save her from her fate, from her death.

"Over the years, he performed many sacrifices to her and even tamed a flesh eating Morborick demon, which I suppose was to dispose of the insane people left by Glory's brain-sucking tendencies. I think that the Jackal changed his name to Thorpe and did indeed infiltrate the Council. There were accounts after that about numerous demon gangs being murdered, one being blown up. All these gangs had links to Glory, they all worshipped her and hoped for status in the Hell it was hoped she would create. I'll try to find out what I can, try to find out what information he may have gotton out of the Council."

"Well, I can help you with that," Willow offered.

"Thank you, Willow," Giles said softly. "And thank you too, Wesley. And you too, Angel, Cordelia."

"Right, " Buffy said. "Now all we gotta do is go get my children back and kill Ed and Glory."

"I'll be right there with you on that score, pet," Spike growled.

"I'm afraid that Chrissy and Todd might be needed by Edward to bring Glory back to her full strength," Wesley said quietly. "Tonight -"

"The planets align," Cordy said, getting up from Angel's lap and standing next to Wesley. "I saw it in my vision. Tonight the planets align, Ed casts some wicked mojo and uses the twins to bring Glory back to her full God-ness."

"He won't get the bloody chance!" Spike yelled. "I'll kill him before he touches a hair on their heads!"

"They're protected, you goon," Cordy snapped. "You can't get at them until the ritual. Then you have small opening. And trust me, if we can't stop him doing the ritual, Glory comes back. My vision showed me how she was before, Buffy, but then I saw how she will be. She will be stronger and faster than ever before and she doesn't want to go back to her dimension any more. She wants to turn this dimension into Hell. You wants all of you to pay."

"Aside from that, the news isn't all bad," Wesley said with a brave attempt at a smile. "At least we have an army," he gestured around at them all and they glowered back.

* * *

Xander poured the juice into glasses, grateful for the quiet sanctuary of the kitchen.

Since Angel and the gang had descended on the Summers' residence, Buffy and Spike had come back to life, listening intently as Wesley imparted all the information he had on the Jackal and then Cordy's vision. He and Anya had decided to get the drinks and snacks because, as much as they had both grown to quite like and respect Wesley over the years, the information wasn't the most thrilling. And when it was, it was too horrendous to listen to.

"Anya?"

"Mmmm?" she answered, arranging cookies on a plate to calm her fluttering nerves.

"You're human."

"Brilliant observation," she commented dryly.

"Yeah. But, I'm trying to be serious here! That… kiss, when I saw you were back. What was that?"

"A kiss?" she answered, not looking up. Perhaps a flower shape would be a nice way to arrange the cookies. Or maybe a spiral, or maybe -

"I meant, what does it mean?"

"That you haven't lost your touch," she answered with a shy smile.

"What does it mean for us?" he put the bottle of juice down and stared at her.

"We're an _'us' _again?" she asked looking up from her cookie arranging and nibbling her lip.

_Don't say it, Xander,_ she hissed at him mentally. _You can tease me, compliment me, but you don't get to kiss me and tell me it meant nothing._

"Did we ever stop being?" her heart leapt at his question.

"I don't know," she hedged. She remembered all too well how rejection felt and was going to play it safe this time before throwing her heart into the ring again. "Did we?"

"I always thought of us as us," he admitted, dropping his gaze then lifting it up to meet her eyes again.

"Me too."

"So… are you my girlfriend again?" he asked hesitantly, feeling like he was back in High School again.

"If you're offering," she shrugged nonchalently.

"I guess I am."

"Good," she smiled and kissed him quickly. "Now, we have twins to save. And then we can… y'know."

Xander smiled, it was good to be part of an "us" again. But she was right - as always - they did have twins to save.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Sixteen  
**

Why did it always have to be goats?

Where there was a spell to be done, there was always a goat that had to be sacrificed. Ed dragged the drained carcass across the room and tossed it into the room so the Morbobick demon could eat it. With a repulsed shudder, he wiped his hands on a towel he had wisely hung by the door. He was always well prepared. He straightened his jacket and opened the door into the makeshift prison.

"Hello, there," he smiled. "Everything to your liking, I hope?"

"Well, we could do with, y'know, a little freedom," Todd shrugged.

"Ah, well, I'm afraid not," he smirked at Chrissy, slumped sullenly in a corner. "And you, Chrissy? Surely you have something to say?" he came into the room, closing the door behind him and prowling towards her. "My, my. Can it be that I have broken the great Christina Joyce Summers?"

"No, you haven't," Todd hissed and punched him in the face. "She doesn't break easy."

Ed staggered back slightly and pulled a hankerchief out of his pocket to dab at his nose.

"You know, your mother did something quite similar to that the other day, only she used her elbow."

"Good," Chrissy snapped. "I hope it hurt."

"It did," Ed chuckled. "I'd tell you that you'd pay for that, my boy, but I'm afraid I've put a spell on you. I can't touch you. Sadly, no one else can either."

"Bastard!" Chrissy yelled at him and jumped up, her arm flying out to punch him.

He ducked to one side and sighed.

"Christina, do calm down. I don't want you hurting yourself before tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me, the Great Glorificus needs me."

He slipped out of the room and the door clicked closed behind him.

"Chrissy? You ok?" Todd asked as she leaned back against the wall with a dull thump and slid down slowly, drawing her knees up and leaning her head on her arms. "Chris?"

She looked up slowly and there was no smirk, no confident lift of the chin or grim determination. There was just fear. And that was what scared him.

"Todd, what was he talking about? What happens tonight?"

* * *

"You came back then."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Buttercup, now's not the time to be stating the obvious."

"Sorry, Spike. Thought you might want your mind taking off things."

"I don't think you took your mind off things when your kid went missing."

Over at the desk shoved against the wall in the Summers' living room, Wesley stiffened and glanced at Angel.

"Yeah. I know," Angel shot Wes a look and shifted awkwardly before he continued. "Spike…" his voice tailed off and he wondered how to proceed. "I heard about Lydia…"

"How?" Spike snapped.

Wesley looked up and hesitated. Then he stood and walked over to the two vampires.

"I heard actually," he stated. "Gunn and I were talking to a source and he happened to come from New Orleans. I inquired after you on Angel's behalf and he… well…"

"Spike, I'm sorry about what happened," Angel said quietly.

"Bugger off, Angel. The only reason I actually ever stopped in on you lot was 'cause of her. She wanted me to be civil to you. Now she's gone, I don't have to pretend I like you anymore."

"Don't tell Fred that," Wesley answered in a flat voice before going back to his books, trying to discover the ritual Ed used in Cordy's vision.

"You don't think you owe me?" Angel asked suddenly, losing the gentle tone he had used before.

"Owe you? Owe you _what_ exactly, Angel?"

"I could have told Buffy anytime that you were in New Orleans. I didn't because we're family and I like that about as much as you do. But like it or not, you owe me."

"What do you want?" Spike gritted out.

He really wasn't in the mood for this.

Sure, he had made the odd trip to LA and Lydia insisted he dropped in on Angel every once in a while. They never discussed Buffy.

Fred would hand him a mug of blood while Gunn asked him about the nightlife in New Orleans. Cordy would ask after Lydia, Lorne would try to get him to sing, Connor would mutter some comment and skulk off to his room or the weapons cabinet. Wesley would ask after his soul and Angel would ask how he was. Then he would leave and he wouldn't see them for another year, maybe two.

Ok, so maybe he thought Fred was all right, and Cordy wasn't as irritating as the rest, but he didn't really _like_ them.

But over the fourteen and a half years he had spent in New Orleans, he had perhaps dropped into LA seven times and the visits never lasted more than about half an hour. It wasn't like he and Angel had suddenly bonded. Spike could grudgingly admit that it was good of Angel not to tell Buffy where he was, but he could also happily admit that Angel was the asshole who hadn't told him about his bloody kids!

And now he had found out that not only did Angel _know_ about Chrissy and Todd, they knew him too and he popped in every now and again to visit.

"I want to know why you came back," there was a sullen edge to Angel's voice when he spoke.

"Why should I tell you anything, Angel? Ok, so you didn't tell Buffy I was en-souled in New Orleans, but did you tell me about _my bloody children_!"

"You never showed any interest in knowing what when on in Sunnydale!" Angel protested, but the sentence ended in an ashamed mumble. "And anyway, why would I have told you? You left for a reason, you wouldn't tell me, and Buffy wouldn't tell me, so I figured it was bad. I still love her, Spike, I love Cordy, but I'll always love Buffy too. Why would I send you back here to hurt her again?"

"Because I wouldn't hurt her!"

"Then why did you come back here? Something tells me it wasn't something simple."

"It's none of your business."

"Fine."

They turned to the weapons chest and Spike removed a hefty looking axe.

"Because she asked me to," Spike muttered suddenly.

"What?" Angel asked, frowning at him.

"Lydia. She told me to come back here. That's why I came."

"Oh."

"Good job too, seeing as you would never have told me."

"You want the truth, Spike?" Angel asked, throwing the sword he had picked up back into the chest. "The truth is I didn't want you to get together. Me and Buffy couldn't make it, why should you two?"

"Why do you care? You got the Cheerleader! Who, I might add, also didn't tell me that I had kids! You too, Wesley! You didn't tell me! Neither did Fred, Gunn or Lorne! It was all a bloody conspiracy!"

"Spike," Wesley began patiently. "If you must know, we did all know and most of us wanted to tell you, but -"

"I didn't want to tell you and they all decided it was my decision," Angel cut in.

"Why not?" Spike nearly screamed. God, if it wasn't for the damned soul, he'd kill Angel right there, Wesley too. Probably the whole Angel Investigations team, even if it meant a trip to LA to finish off Fred and Gunn who were looking after the office.

"Because you don't deserve her, Spike!"

"I know that! I know I'm damned lucky to have her!"

"Well… Good!"

"Are either of you gonna kill each other, because I'd like to watch."

The vampires turned to see Xander, standing with his arm casually around a beaming Anya.

"But you should really put that off until later 'cause we have to save your children, Spike," Anya added. "Oh, and Buffy's crying in the bathroom. Do you want to go see her, or shall I?"

"Bloody hell," Spike ran his hand over his face and sighed. "I can't take this."

"Go and look after her," Angel muttered gruffly. "I'll sort out the weapons and help Wesley with the research."

"Thought you said I didn't deserve her?"

"You don't. But for some reason, she thinks otherwise."

Spike nodded and started toward the stairs. Xander and Anya returned to the kitchen to help Willow with her hacking. Which basically meant standing around making "helpful" comments because they didn't have anything else to do.

"You know," Wesley started quietly, looking over at Angel hunched over the chest. "He's right. You do have Cordy, you should have told him about the twins or told Buffy where he was."

"You never made a mistake, Wesley?" Angel retorted.

Wesley clenched his jaw for a moment and answered, in a firmer voice, "You admit it was a mistake then?"

"It didn't feel like a mistake at the time."

"And now?"

"And now at least he's got them."

* * *

"So, we have a plan?" Xander asked.

They were seated back in the living room, in the same positions they had sat in hours earlier when Wesley and Cordy presented their information.

"We have a plan," Giles confirmed.

"And that would be…?" Cordy prompted.

"We get the biggest, baddest weapons we have," Buffy started, her voice grimly determined. "You, Willow and I will use our powers to hold off Glory and Ed before they start the ritual. That way, all the demons they're bound to have can be killed by the rest of you."

"Then," Spike continued. "You guys release the mojo and Buffy and I gatecrash the ritual. Giles, Wesley, one of you will have to come with us, doesn't matter who, so you can tell us at what point we stop the ritual -"

"I can do that," Cordy interrupted. "I had the vision, I _know_ the opening."

"You'll be too busy helping Willow drain Glory and Ed," Buffy answered.

"Drain them?" Connor asked. "I thought you said these people were tough?"

"They are," Buffy said. "But Cordelia and Willow are tougher. You do your best to drain them of whatever power you can. When the opening arrives, Spike, Angel, Connor and I will take on Glory and Ed. Xander, Anya, Josh; I want you to get Chrissy and Todd out. Get them _away_, you don't listen to them if they say they want to fight, ok?"

"Sure," Josh nodded. "Got it."

"The rest of you will be on stand by," Buffy continued. "Any little minion appears, kill it. Dawn, think you can run that part?"

"Sure," Dawn nodded, squeezing Josh's hand.

"Will, Cordelia, you two need to kick start the mojo again, but not until the twins are out of there, ok?"

"Yeah," they nodded.

"What about Glory and Ed?" Dawn asked. "How you gonna kill them?"

"I intend to cut their heads off," Buffy answered. "Angel, Connor, don't waste any time kicking their asses. As much I want them to _hurt_ for what they've done, I want them dead more. So as soon as you can, cut their heads off."

"And keep them," Giles added.

"Ewww, Giles!" Cordy cried.

"Why do we have to keep them?" Connor asked. "We kill them, isn't that enough?"

"There's a ritual -" Giles started.

"When isn't there?" Connor muttered.

"This ritual will mean that the Jackal and Glory will be well and truly dead," Giles stated, ignoring Connor.

"And they wouldn't be anyway?" Josh asked.

"The Jackal's a powerful guy," Anya explained. "He's got _serious_ power. He raised Glory once after Buffy kicked her ass, that takes _huge_ amounts of power. She's a God, that should wipe out any other evil immortal person. There's no way of knowing that he doesn't have the power to regenerate or possess someone."

"Ok, then I'm all for more ritual!" Xander said.

"So is everyone happy with the plan?" Buffy asked, her expression clearly stating that they had to be happy with it because she wasn't changing it.

"Apart from the part where someone's definitely going to get killed," Cordy murmured.

"Cordy, no one's going to die," Angel told her. "It'll be fine."

"Cordelia, if you're not up for this, leave now," Buffy ground out through clenched teeth.

"Buffy, we need her," Spike reminded her.

"She'll be fine, Buffy," Angel assured her. "She's tough."

He smiled at her and she grinned back.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'll be good. I'll kick her ass!"

"Good," Buffy nodded. "You all know what to do, get on it."

With an impassive face, she turned and stalked out of the living room into the kitchen. Spike had watched her the whole time she been telling them the plan and a tiny part of him was thankful that Angel, Cordy, Connor and Wesley had shown up.

Giles didn't have any books, so Wesley's information had been invaluable. Cordy's powers would be vital in holding off Glory and Ed. And Angel and Connor would be needed when fighting Glory and Ed because he knew how strong they were.

But that didn't mean he had to like that Angel was there, it didn't mean he had to like needing Angel.

But he had focused on Buffy while she was talking and the world fell away. This was when he loved her best, faced with something so difficult, but she took control. It didn't matter that only an hour earlier she had been sobbing in the bathroom that it was her fault the twins had gone, because now, everyone was looking to her to tell them how to save them. She was strong, his Slayer.

He followed her into the kitchen to see her leaning against the counter. He came forward and laid a hand on her back. She let out a long shuddering breath before turning to him.

"What if Cordy's right?" she asked.

"Right?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Ever heard of her being right about _anything_?"

She smiled slightly.

"The plan isn't dumb?"

"No, the plan's good. I like the plan. In fact, I _love _the plan. It's the best plan I've heard in a long while, it's -"

"It's a long shot."

"It was always gonna be," he sighed. "C'mere," he pulled her to him and she held him tightly.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He had a hazy memory of himself lying on the couch, barely conscious after being brought back from his torture session at Glory's hands. He remembered gentle words and a soft kiss on his forehead. He thought it might have been "I love you," but he convinced himself otherwise, because it was easier that way. That way, he didn't think she loved him so that if it came to an end, it wouldn't hurt so much.

"I love you too."

He didn't care if it hurt if it ended, because for the time being at least, she loved him.


	17. Chapter 17

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Seventeen  
**

The sun had set and everyone was loaded down with weapons. They stood behind Buffy and Spike and waited for Buffy to do the door kicking.

She gripped her sword and swung suddenly with a viciousness that stunned most of the gang and this time the door didn't cave, it split in two and ripped from its hinges. They stood quietly for a second before surging forward with a loud yell.

The demons descended almost immediately.

The plan had been drummed into them. Either Spike or Buffy would constantly ask the others if they knew what to do. By now, they did.

Cordy, Willow and Buffy joined hands and Willow set up a shield. Buffy and Willow had practised tuning their minds several times and Cordy was adept at it so within moments, their minds unified and focused. A picture grew in their joined minds of Ed and Glory. Ed was standing over a large altar surrounded by candles and Glory was watching with a wide grin. Buffy realised with a jolt that Chrissy and Todd were tied to the altar. Gags were tied around their mouths and Chrissy's face was tear streaked and a large bruise was blooming on Todd's cheekbone.

Their minds focused on Glory and Ed. As one, they sent out a bolt of energy. The energy split into two and wrapped around Glory and Ed. There were outraged yells and the three women could feel them struggling. The sounds of the fight was dulled slightly by the barrier around them, but Buffy, Cordy and Willow could feel the fight going their way.

"Buffy!"

As one, the women's eyes snapped open and surveyed the carnage before them. Their friends and lovers were blood splattered and stood over the fallen bodies of demons. To the women, it felt like only a moment had past, but in truth, the rest of the gang had been fighting for a lot longer.

The energy was retracted from Glory and Ed and Willow brought the protective barrier down. Spike grabbed Buffy's hand and dragged her toward the stairs. Giles stumbled forward and was caught by Xander as he fell forward.

"Oh, man," Xander gasped, looking up at Buffy who had paused on the stairs. She saw him press his hand to Giles' stomach and pull it away, stained in blood.

"Get him out," she shouted. "Get him to a hospital!"

Xander hesitated and Anya helped him hold Giles up as he groaned and slumped forward even more.

"Go!" Buffy cried, voice growing shrill.

Xander and Anya gripped him tightly and stumbled out to Xander's car to take him to the hospital.

"Wesley!" Spike yelled. "C'mon!"

Wesley limped after him, his hand clasped over his thigh, but his teeth gritted together in determination. Spike grabbed his shoulder and practically carried him up the stairs. Buffy hacked the locked door at the top of the stairs down.

They stood in the doorway, waiting for Wesley to give the signal. With a shout of outrage, Glory ran at them, but she stopped, her body folding as though she was punched in the gut. She fell to her knees and Buffy briefly tuned into Cordy and Willow. She heard the steady chant they kept up to drain Glory and Ed. She heard Angel and Connor run up behind them and stop.

Ed hadn't noticed them and he obviously wasn't feeling the drain of power. Buffy had a stab of fear. _If Glory's feeling it and Ed isn't, how strong _is_ he?_ She asked herself. She pushed the thought aside and waited, her muscles tensed.

"_Dist farmeno. Tri aughaum, lie ghif,_" Ed chanted monotonously, his hands held out over the twins. "_As I command thee, release! Release! Release!_"

"Now!" Wesley shouted and Buffy and Spike darted forward.

Angel and Connor turned their attentions to Glory. She was on the floor, twitching, her strength ebbing away. Her eyes fluttered open in time to register Angel and Connor approaching her.

"Edward!" she screamed.

He turned, saw Buffy and Spike approaching him and Angel and Connor going toward Glory.

He had to make a split decision: save his Goddess or prevent the parents reaching the children. He jumped up onto the altar and leapt. His arms were outstretched and caught Buffy and Spike across the throats, knocking them to the ground, Buffy choking.

Ed reached Glory before Angel and Connor. He aimed a kick at Angel's face who stumbled backward and a punch to Connor's stomach. Neither crumbled to the ground in agony as he expected them to. He paused for a second and that was enough to note the marked drop in his power.

He spun around and kicked Angel onto his side, caught Connor's fist as it flew toward him and pushed him back into the wall. Josh and Dawn ran into the room and straight toward the altar. Spike and Buffy were on their feet again and Ed turned to them.

He launched an attack on them. He replaced his strength with frenzied speed. Spike and Buffy absorbed his attack and hit back with concentrated rage. Over Buffy's shoulder, Spike saw Josh scoop Chrissy up and run out of the room, followed closely by Dawn who half-dragged, half-helped Todd out of the room.

"Mom," Chrissy murmured, struggling, Josh tightened his grip, ran out into the night, and eased her into the car, followed by Dawn.

Inside, Willow and Cordy kept up their chant as they followed the image in their heads.

"Angel," Cordy whimpered when she saw Ed turn and attack him.

But Angel's elbow flew back and hit him in the stomach. He twisted and his sword sliced through the air, cutting through the flesh of Ed's stomach.

"Damn," Ed cursed, as Angel helped Connor to his feet. "That hurt."

"That'll hurt more," Angel answered.

"What - " but Spike axe had already swung and cut neatly though his neck. The head rolled to the floor, followed by the slumped body, the mouth still working slowly. A red glow left the body and faded into the wooden floor.

"NO!" Glory screamed, lifting her head from the floor slightly. "NO!"

Buffy walked over to her, lifted her foot and kicked her hard under the chin, snapping her jaw.

Then her sword swung and another head rolled across the floor.

Cordy looked up from the floor where she cradled Willow's head in her lap. Angel and Connor were supporting Wesley down the stairs, followed by Buffy and Spike, each clutching a head by the hair.

"Willow," Buffy breathed, dropping Glory's head and running toward her. She eased Willow against her and looked to Cordy for an explanation.

"When you killed him, the last of the energy drained out of him," Cordy began. "Because of my demon-ness, I could stop it getting into me, but I think it got into her. I think I banished it, but I'm not sure. You'll have to do that icky head ritual soon."

"Right," Buffy nodded.

Spike picked up Glory's head and Buffy lifted Willow.

"Wes, are you ok?" Cordy asked, frowning at the bedraggled ex-Watcher.

"Fine," he rasped, "Though, painkillers would be nice right now."

"Wuss," she muttered and kissed Angel deeply.

"Bitch!"

Buffy stared down at Willow whose eyes were blackened and her mouth twisted in fury.

"You think you can stop me, you're wrong. I'm the Jackal, you can't -"

But Willow's tirade was cut off by Cordy's fist. Buffy looked up at Cordy in shock. Cordy shrugged.

"She was getting on my nerves. See what I mean about doing the ritual?"

* * *

Spike stood in the doorway and looked at Buffy. She was slumped in a chair between the twins' beds, one hand resting on each bed. His gaze travelled to his children, slumbering in the beds. They had been let out of hospital after their cuts and bruises were wrapped up. Buffy hadn't left them since they'd been home.

The phone rang and he rushed to answer it. Everyone was asleep, Dawn and Josh in Dawn's old room, Buffy and his children in their room and the LA gang downstairs. He ran down the stairs and into the living room, grabbing the phone.

"Hello?" he waited for a reply, his eyes drifting over the people crowded in the room.

Wesley was asleep on the couch, Connor was curled in the chair and Angel and Cordy were spooned together on a blanket on the floor.

"Hello, Spike," it was Xander' voice. Great. The Whelp.

"What do you want, Xander?"

"Giles did the ritual. Don't ask me how, I think he had the stuff on him and locked himself in my bathroom with the heads. Willow's here and she's fine. No more Evil Ed possession. It's all good."

"Thanks."

"I'm calling to tell Buffy."

"She's asleep. I'll tell her."

"Good…. What, Anya?…No! I'm not saying… Fine… Spike, thanks."

"What?"

"You heard me."

The phone was slammed down and Spike lowered it into the cradle.

He went back up stairs as silently as possible. He kneeled before Buffy and took her hand.

"Buffy, love," he whispered. "Wake up, pet."

"Mmmm, what?" she shifted and looked at him. "What? What's happened?"

"Nothing. Xander called. Willow's ok now. Giles did the ritual with the heads in Xander's bathroom apparently."

"She's good?" Buffy mumbled sleepily, trying to focus on him.

"Yeah, no more possession. Just our Willow."

"Good. So, it's over now?"

"Yeah, love, it's over now. Don't have to worry anymore."

"Ok. Can we go to bed now?"

"Sure," he smiled, lifted her up and carried her silently down the hall to what was now _their_ room.


	18. Chapter 18: Epilogue

**_Things Change  
_****Chapter Eighteen: Epilogue  
**

"Thanks for coming," Buffy said.

"That's ok," Angel shrugged. "Y'know we're always happy to help."

"But thanks anyway, if you guys hadn't been here -"

"You would have been fine," Angel cut in with a smile.

"Well, we didn't have to find out, so that's all right."

She hugged him quickly, muttering another thanks into his jacket. She smiled at Connor.

"You too. You were great," she grinned.

"It's what I do," he shrugged, suppressing a smile and hugged her back when she held him tightly.

"It's like their hobby or something," Cordy smiled, hugging Buffy. "It's ok. You don't have to say thanks. It was fun being in your head. Weird, but fun."

Buffy laughed. In a way, she sorta missed Cordy.

"Bye then, Wes," she said, smiling at Wes in concern. "How's the leg?"

"Fine, I'm sure I'll get the feeling back in no time."

She laughed again. "So, do we hug?"

He smiled a little and leaned forward on the walking stick and hugged her briefly with one arm.

"I think I can put my great British reserve to one side for a moment," he replied dryly.

"Thanks for all the researching help."

"It was a pleasure."

"You bloody Watcher types," Spike said, coming down the halll, extending his hand. Wesley gripped it, then Spike turned to Angel, then Connor. Cordy noted his offering of a handshake with raised eyebrows and grabbed him in a huge hug.

"Don't forget to visit," she whispered.

"Yeah," he shrugged, running his hands over his hair in embarrassement. "Thanks, you lot. Hate to say it, but this soul of mine reckons it's polite."

"Wow, it's hugs apolooza!" Willow cried, coming into the living room from the kitchen with Xander, Anya, Dawn, Josh, Chrissy, Todd and Giles.

"Thanks, you guys," Willow said, grabbing them all together in a tight group hug as the rest of the Scoobies descended on the LA gang.

_Hugs apolooza_, Spike thought, watching from a safe distance. _You said it, Red_, he added as Chrissy dragged him into the hug fest.

* * *

"We hurt each other, Spike."

He froze, then looked up from the book he was reading and saw her, leaning against the doorframe in a skimpy nightdress.

"Yeah, we did, pet."

"Can't change it," she continued. "Can't go back. Can't take back the things we said to each other, did to each other. "

"I know. I'm sorry… You'll never know how sorry I am for what I did… I can't ever change it and I know I don't deserve to be trusted by you, but I -"

"I think that I've never needed you like this before," Buffy interupted. "Part of me hates it. I shouldn't need anyone this much. But I do. I need you, Spike. That isn't going to change. I love you, that isn't going to change either. We have to forget what happened in the past if we can move on. I've forgiven you, Spike, I trust you. But if I forget, if we start over, this has to be forever. You and me, we have to be forever. We have children, it isn't just us that will get hurt if it goes wrong this time. It has to last."

"I want it to. I want to be with you. We can make it last."

"Can we?" she asked, sitting on the end of the bed. "Sure?"

"Yeah. I know we can."

"All right then," she nodded. "Then I've forgotton. Every bad thing we ever did, every nasty thing we ever said. It's over. I'm not blaming you, you're not blaming me, we're not blaming us. New life, starts here, got it?"

"Got it," he smiled and leaned forward.

"Hey, you two, you coming down to watch this video?" Chrissy called from halfway up the stairs. "Mom, Aunt Dawn's getting testy!"

"Ok, Chrissy, I'm coming!" she called back. "Better go calm Dawn down. It's a big day tomorrow."

"Weddings. Haven't been to one in years."

"Should be fun. Dancing, food, happiness. It's all good."

"Yeah."

She kissed him quickly on the lips and started to leave the door.

"Buffy?"

She paused in the doorway.

"Yeah?" she asked, turning.

"Can I have the first dance?"

She smiled widely.

"Always."

* * *

**_The End._**


End file.
